


Forget-Me-Not

by st_jimmy_987



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 新ムーミン | Shin Moomin (Anime 1972), 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Little My is a Little Pain, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Pining, Snufkin is a Mess, Snufkin you’re ridiculous please, Train wreck children, help me the pining has gotten out of hand, oh my god so much pining now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-03-19 19:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_jimmy_987/pseuds/st_jimmy_987
Summary: Snufkin comes back to Moomin Valley and finds himself in a situation that makes him reconsider a lot about his relationship with Moomin.





	1. March

**Author's Note:**

> There’s so many other things I need to be working on. I’ve only seen like maybe six episodes of the 90’s show I think. :) and yet here I am.
> 
> Enjoy!!

** March **

When Snufkin went to bed, just a half day’s travel from Moomin Valley the night before the first day of spring, he did so with a small smile on his face and excitement in his heart. It had felt like a longer winter than usual, and sort of felt like winter had lasted years instead of just three months. He was looking forward to his return to the valley, and to Moomin himself, and could barely bring himself to fall asleep so far from his usual campsite. He didn’t particularly like traveling in the darkness of the night, though, and so he forced himself to stay put and wait the night out. Morning would come soon enough, he reasoned with himself, and it would come sooner still once he fell asleep.

With restless tossing and turning, he managed to drift off into a sound sleep.

XXXX

The familiar sight of Moomin House brought a cheerful bounce to his steps, and Snufkin only just managed to keep himself from breaking into a run. He still had his pack on, which would be uncomfortable to run with, and he couldn’t just drop it anywhere; instead, he pulled out his harmonica and began playing the tune he’d composed over winter, letting the notes fly ahead of him on the wind to herald his arrival as usual. The windows to Moomin House were all open, letting in fresh spring air after a long winter of being shut firmly, so he knew it was only a matter of time before his best friend heard his music and rushed out to greet him.

In the meantime, he closed his eyes and let his feet walk the familiar path, keeping one ear out for the sound of Moomintroll’s happy voice. It really shouldn’t be too long now; it was midday, after all, and even if Moomintroll had overslept, Snufkin could always count on his harmonica waking him up. It had before, in the past, and he saw no reason for it not to now.

And yet, he made it all the way to the bridge, shouldering his pack off into its usual spot at his campground and leaning against the rail of the bridge. After a moment, where he finished the song and was taking a breather, Snufkin pulled himself onto the rail and crossed his knees. Staring hard at the open window of Moomintroll’s room, he debated briefly on whether or not he should shout for him.

Deciding against it, Snufkin kicked his feet into the air and started on another tune, one of the more familiar ones he shared with Moomin Valley. That was sure to grab Moomin’s attention, or at least let Moominmamma or Moominpappa know he was there as well.

“Hey!” He didn’t stop playing, but lifted his eyes curiously; Little My was leaning out of another window, one that was likely closer to her own room, waving her hand and looking cross. “Hey! Is that you making all that racket?”

“But of course, Little My.” He called back, placing his harmonica in his lap. “Who else would it be?” Something niggled at the back of his mind, though he brushed it to the side for the moment. Little My already looked unhappy, and zoning out on her wouldn’t improve her attitude at all.

“Well, quit it!” She snapped at him. “I was having the best dream, you know, and for once in my life, Moomin had let me sleep in to enjoy it. Now you’ve gone and woken me up! I’m in no mood to hear silly tunes right now.”

“I apologize for waking you,” He said back, swinging his feet again. “I didn’t mean to, honest. I was just waiting for Moomin myself.”

Little My didn’t seem to hear him, though. Once he’d apologized, she slammed the window shut and presumably stomped down the stairs. Snufkin fought back his smile and lifted his harmonica again, restarting the familiar music with ease. Keeping an eye on Moomintroll’s window, Snufkin played through the whole song before coming to a stop.

There was no movement, from either the house or his room, and Snufkin found himself pocketing his harmonica with a slight frown. This was very odd, he thought, because Moomin never kept him waiting this long before. Certainly not long enough to warrant Little My yelling at him, though she often yelled regardless. For a moment, Snufkin considered that he’d just missed Moomin, and that they’d passed each other while he was coming in and Moomin was going out.

That thought was discarded almost instantly; time and again, Moomin would stay home until he arrived, not going too far from his house in case he missed Snufkin’s arrival. It seemed sometimes to be against his very being to do something without Snufkin present once spring arrived.

He glanced up at the sun, thinking for a moment, then hopped off the rail with a soft grunt. He’d set up his camp, then, before it got too late to do so, and then visit Moomin House personally. Though he still wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done over winter to garner such treatment from his best friend, he wouldn’t figure it out just sitting here.

Plan in mind, Snufkin made his way over to where he normally set up camp. Pitching his tent was easy enough, and he hummed to himself as he went through the familiar motions. They soothed the worry that was taking root in his chest; by the time he was fully set up, the worry was gone completely. Tightening the last knot, Snufkin looked over his campsite with a pleased nod.

Then he glanced over at Moomin House, where he realized with a start that the family was setting up to eat together. He gave his campsite one more look and then made his way across the bridge. Better for him they were out already, so that he didn’t disturb whatever spring cleaning chores they had been doing. There was no Moomin, though, and that set off the worry in his gut again.

“Hello!” He called from the bridge, waving his paw when everyone looked over. “Fine afternoon, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is!” Moominpappa said jovially, while Little My leaned over to whisper to Moominmamma. Time hadn’t improved her grouchiness, because Snufkin caught the dark glare she sent him when he got closer.

“We appreciated the lovely music earlier this afternoon, dear.” Moominmamma said pleasantly, ignoring Little My as she rolled her eyes theatrically. “It was a fine way to spend our first day up, with beautiful music to help along with our chores!”

“Glad to be of service, Moominmamma.” Snufkin said with a dramatic bow, straightening up with a small smile. “Have you happened to see Moomintroll as of late? It’s quite odd that I haven’t seen him just yet today.”

Moominmamma and Moominpappa shared a look, one that was interrupted by Little My banging her fists on the table.

“Moomin ran off earlier, I think.” Moominmamma said slowly, carefully ignoring Little My’s impatience. Snufkin tilted his head to the side, confused, though he was trying his best not to show it. Did he really miss Moomin by that much?

“I think he and Snorkmaiden are playing by the field.” Little My said scornfully. “I wouldn’t know, because I was trying to finish up my sleep before I got interrupted.” She made another face. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. Honestly, the one year I don’t get woken up by Moomin, I have some wayward vagabond playing music to wake me up!”

“Wayward vagabond?” Snufkin forced himself to sound amused, lifting an eyebrow at Little My, who stuck her tongue out at him. He glanced from her to Moominpappa, and from him to Moominmamma, and then from her to the empty space where Moomintroll usually sat. “Is that what I am, then?”

“Well, it’s either that or a nuisance, but Moominmamma wouldn’t appreciate me saying that.” She snarked at him, pulling herself against the back of her chair. Moominmamma made a disapproving noise, couple with a look that she seemed to only have for Little My. Snufkin would have found the sight of his older sister cowering more amusing if there wasn’t something more pressing on his mind.

That thought from earlier was making its reappearance. Snufkin just had to pay attention to it.

“Why don’t you join us for lunch?” Moominmamma asked gently, causing his train of thought to stall. He blinked at her slowly, and she tilted her head towards the table. “There’s plenty for everyone, dear, and I’m sure Moomin will show up eventually. He always enjoys a good meal, especially on the first day of spring!”

“I’m aware.” Snufkin said slowly. He reached down, twisting the hem of his shirt uneasily. Making a half step to the side, he glanced at the bridge; their usual meetup looked the same as always, complete with his campsite just beyond it, and yet there was still no Moomin. On top of that, the Moomin family and Little My were acting off, but there was no way for him to place how just yet.

Still, he didn’t really want to eat lunch right now. He’d spent the entire winter away from Moomin Valley, and away from Moomintroll. He wanted to see Moomin, because that was his usual indicator that he was home for spring. Or not home, rather, but something similar enough to it that wouldn’t make Snufkin feel caged in and trapped. Not seeing the troll made Snufkin uneasy, like something was displaced in his chest, and he found his paw rubbing against it to soothe the ache.

“Mamma, Mamma!”

“Oh, there he is now!” Moominmamma stood, waving her hand happily. “Moomin, lunch is ready!”

Snufkin watched as Moomin ran up to the house, by passing him completely without even a hello. Tilting his head to the side, Snufkin watched in silence as he took his seat next to Little My, the both of them bickering already. He took a step back when Moominmamma cleared her throat pointedly, gaining both of their attention while she gestured towards Snufkin with her head.

And he felt something in his chest freeze when Moomin turned to him, smiled blankly, and said, “oh, hi! Is that your campsite over there?”

XXXX

He…wasn’t entirely sure how to feel after that.

Snufkin ended up not eating lunch with the Moomin family and Little My; he made his excuses and turned on his heel, striding past his tent and into the trees, taking care to keep his steps even and unhurried. Once he was sure he was hidden by the trunks and the leaves, he broke into a run towards the meadow that he and Moomin had discovered several years ago, his feet sure and unerring over the familiar forest terrain. He didn’t slip or trip, and made it to the meadow in record time.

Panting a bit from exertion, Snufkin dropped to the ground and just sprawled there, arms outstretched on either side of his body and legs spread. He took up as much space as his little body could handle, staring up at the sun and sky while he thought.

It could be a prank, he reasoned with himself. This seemed like something Little My would do, pretend to forget about him and his spring return. To put it quite nicely, she could be a real pain in the behind when she wanted to be, and Snufkin knew, he _knew_ , that if anyone would have this idea for a prank, it would be all her.

That left the convincing of everyone else to join in on the joke, and that’s where Snufkin faltered. Moominpappa might be absentminded enough to go along with things, if you can catch him in the right mood unawares, but this was the kind of nonsense Moominmamma was adept at putting a quick stop to. Not only that, but Snufkin was quite sure there wasn’t enough of anything in the world that would quite convince Moomin to pretend he wasn’t anxiously awaiting his return to Moomin Valley. And even if there was such a thing, he didn’t think Snorkmaiden and the others would let them get away with such a thing.

So that ruled out the prank idea.

Maybe they all collectively hit their heads, and it caused some sort of long term memory loss, Snufkin thought. But Moominpappa and Moominmamma were notoriously heavy sleepers during hibernation, and though Moomintroll was prone to waking during winter, even he wasn’t clumsy enough to somehow cause mass memory loss amongst the Moomins and Little My. And Little My was crafty enough to keep well out of Moomin’s reach during hibernation, her little crevice hardly big enough for her to comfortably relax in.

So maybe not amnesia.

There was always the possibility of magic, Snufkin mused, and that seemed simultaneously the most likely idea and yet the most irrational. The Witch was the only one Snufkin could think of that would be powerful enough to pull off such a thing, but why would she attack the Moomins during their slumber? And more importantly, why should she go after them at all? They’d made sure to steer clear of her last year, not even getting in the general vicinity of her house, often going the long way around to bypass it. She should have no grudge against them.

She was also the only magic user in Moomin Valley, which meant that if it _was_ magic, it _had_ to be her, no question. If it wasn’t, that meant there was someone else who had a grudge against the Moomins, and who on earth could think to hold a grudge against such a caring family?

Snufkin rolled to his side, where Moomin usually lay beside him, and sighed heavily. He’d been so excited to see Moomin again, more so than usual, and the lack of interaction between them was already starting to weigh heavily on his chest. His dislike for whatever caused his dear friend to forget him completely came in so strongly and suddenly that he startled, pushing himself into a sitting position on reflex. He clenched and unclenched his paws, his claws digging into the dirt without his realizing.

He thought to put a lid on his anger, push it to the side, but it refused to leave the hollow part of his chest. It grew and grew instead, causing him to breathe heavily through his nose and squint his eyes shut. Without his realization, his body began trembling; he bit his lip harder and harder until his fangs pierced it, and then the pain sparked a reaction.

He threw himself forward, yelling something unintelligible as he pounced into the air. There was nothing to catch, of course, but he did it again and again and again. Each time seemed to burn off more and more energy, until he was left a panting, sweaty, exhausted mess on the ground. His chest felt empty again, and he pushed himself to his feet with a sigh.

As the sun began to set, Snufkin made his way back to his tent. He had no food for dinner, and no time to even make an attempt at fishing, but he didn’t much care. Instead, he made his way straight to his tent, zipped it up behind him, and collapsed into his bedroll with a quiet grunt.

Maybe he’d wake up in the morning to discover this was all a dream.

XXXX

It was not, in fact, a dream.

Snufkin woke bright and early, feeling well rested and ready to take on the day. His stomach was rumbling loudly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before midday yesterday, and so he prepared himself for the day. Then he stepped out of his tent, fishing rod in hand, and made his way over to the bridge between his tent and Moomin House. Situating himself quickly, Snufkin cast his line into the water and began his wait, humming tunelessly to himself.

He hadn’t quite realized how early he’d woken; the sun was barely making its way across the treetops, bathing everything in a warm honey glow, and Snufkin tilted his head back to breathe the air in as deeply as possible. He felt a bit silly for his over reaction yesterday, and blamed it entirely on the circumstances. He’d woken early, and ate a quick breakfast before spending the majority of the day walking. He’d not even stopped for lunch, so eager was he to get back to Moomin Valley as soon as possible, and though he wasn’t yet privy to the information yet, something had clearly happened to the Moomin family during hibernation.

All he could do was wait for Moomintroll to come to him, to trust him enough to tell him in his own time. In the meantime, he shouldn’t push Moomin for more than he was willing to give, a lesson he’d managed to teach so well to the little troll without applying it to himself somehow.

The silly feeling grew into a deep embarrassment, one that had him lowering his face and hiding it under the brim of his hat. Honestly, it wasn’t like him to get so worked up over something so little.

A noise caught his attention and he tilted his head to the side. It sounded familiar, and when it came again he managed to follow it to its source: Moomin, climbing down the ladder from his window. A smile broke out over his face, wider than he’d intended, and Snufkin managed to force it into something more characteristic of him by the time Moomin hit the ground.

Not wanting to be caught staring, Snufkin turned his attention back to his fishing and kept an ear out for his friend; underneath his hat, his ear flicked in the direction Moomin was coming from, tracking his progress across the lawn. His footsteps in the grass were muffled and slow, like he was making an effort to try and scare him, and he glanced at him when he came to a stop by the edge of the bridge.

“Hello!” Moomintroll said brightly, waving at him. Snufkin nodded his head once in acknowledgement, and Moomin continued. “Having any luck yet?”

“Not really,” He hummed, “but I’ve just started. Would you care to join me?”

“You won’t mind too much?” Moomin asked, and Snufkin shook his head. “Well, all right I suppose. Haven’t anything better to do right now anyway.”

“Is that so?” He murmured back. The comment stung, just a little, because he’d thought Moomin liked fishing with him; at least, he’d not complained about it before, always managing to either have his own gear prepared for him to grab at the last minute from his room, or have it with him already to maximize their time together.

“I’m not usually up this early, you see,” Moomin explained as he sat down beside him, “especially not on the second day of spring! But I woke up before the sun and couldn’t get back to sleep for whatever reason.” He put his hands out behind him, leaning back and tilting his head up. Snufkin recognized the position as the one he himself had just been in, and wondered at the similarities. “I thought to go adventuring, but then I ran into you! Why are you up so early?”

“Fishing’s best when there isn’t much noise.” Snufkin offered. “And since the sun’s not fully up yet, means it’s not too hot for me to sit here and wait.”

“That’s a good point.” Moomin said brightly. “I’ve never thought of it like that!” Snufkin squinted, glancing at Moomin out of the corner of his eye.

The oddity of everything was hitting him: Moomin knew exactly why he fished so early in the morning, and wouldn’t ask such a question. And the second day of spring was when Snufkin would wake Moomin just before dawn, so that they could have a proper reunion, away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths, and watch the sunrise together. That Moomin was wondering why he was up that early, instead of why Snufkin hadn’t come to collect him like always…

“Say, Moomin,” Snufkin started, waiting for the troll’s answering hum before he continued, “did anything…exciting happen here over the winter?”

“You’re the most exciting thing that’s happened to Moomin Valley so far,” Moomin said honestly, and Snufkin ducked his head down so that he didn’t see how quickly his face turned red, “but you haven’t exactly shown up until yesterday.”

“You slept all winter?” Snufkin couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye again. It felt like such a long time since Moomin had admitted to sleeping all through winter; lately, it seemed as if he’d been waking up more and more, never really fully hibernating throughout the entire winter.

“Everyone here hibernates!” Moomin said, clearly mistaking the tone in his voice. “Or at least, near everyone. The whole valley, practically!” He sat up sharply, so suddenly that Snufkin nearly jumped. “Oh, it’s Snorkmaiden! We were meeting up today to go hunting for seashells!”

“Moomin!” Snorkmaiden waved at them, one hand cupping her mouth to make her voice carry further. “Good morning, Moomin!”

“Good morning, Snorkmaiden!” Moomin called back.

“If you had plans, you should keep them.” Snufkin said blandly, reeling in his fishing line. The urge to be alone was suddenly overwhelming, even if he was supposed to have more time before feeling claustrophobic. This whole situation was throwing him off, messing with his internal clock something fierce.

“Oh, but wouldn’t you like to come with us?” Moomin asked, whipping his head back to him. “The beach isn’t far from here, honest, and I’m sure Snorkmaiden wouldn’t mind having you join us!”

“Thanks, but I have plans.” Snufkin said easily, standing up and cracking his back with a long stretch. “I appreciate your company for the morning, though.” He waved at Snorkmaiden experimentally, and was rewarded with an uncertain wave back; the kind that usually came when one person recognized another, but the other person couldn’t remember where in the world they’d met before.

Interesting.

Moomin took his excuse in stride, saying goodbye even as he got up to join Snorkmaiden, and Snufkin watched them in a detached sort of way; he purposefully ignored the sting of having Moomin abandon him so easily in favor of his other friend. They greeted each other enthusiastically, and ran off- - -in the opposite direction of the beach, presumably to grab Sniff and drag him along with them.

He sat down to resume his fishing; he had a lot to think about, and he needed to eat at some point today.

XXXX

About a week after he’d arrived in Moomin Valley, much earlier than usual for his wanderlust to kick in again, Snufkin packed up his tent in the early morning hours. He hated to leave so soon, but the week had felt much longer than it should have; it seemed to be a reoccurring thing in his life, things being far longer than they should have been. He would chide his own self for the dramatics, but he was genuinely puzzled by the circumstances. It felt like the entire valley had forgotten him over the course of the winter, and it was something he’d intended to figure out.

The Moomin family collectively forgetting him was one thing; it could be a familial illness, or something that had affected them personally. It hurt, more deeply than Snufkin was ready to admit even to himself, but it was bearable so long as they remained the same caring family Snufkin remembered them to be. He could pretend that he was still welcomed amongst them, because he was, even if it was in a different capacity than he remembered before.

Granted, all that meant was that he wasn’t guilted by Moomin’s sad face when he refused to stay the night or come over for mealtimes. It was such a little thing, barely any difference to Snufkin at all most times, but the absence of it was heavily noticed, and sorely missed. 

But back to the point, which was that not even Snorkmaiden or Sniff remembered him, which meant it was something much more dire than that. The theory of magic affecting Moomin Valley was becoming more and more likely, and Snufkin needed to know how far the magic went. It would help give him an idea of what he was working against, and maybe give him a clue on who he was looking for.

He packed quickly and efficiently, his campsite gone in no time at all. As he hefted his bag onto his shoulders, he glanced up at Moominhouse, specifically at Moomintroll’s window, like he usually did when he went on his way somewhere; it was like his own personal good luck charm, a small reminder of why he couldn’t stay away for too long even if he was itching to get away. Now he just wanted to make a silent promise, that he would get to the bottom of this and figure it out. Return the valley to normal, if he could.

He was surprised to find Moomintroll leaning out of his window, watching him as he packed. Shifting his shoulders uneasily under the straps of his bag, Snufkin debated on what to do for all of two seconds before raising his hand and giving Moomin a short wave. He held his breath, hoping against hope for something familiar to happen.

When all that happened was a wave back, Snufkin sighed heavily and turned to the forest. He’d spent the last week hoping and hoping, to no avail. Nothing had changed so far in the valley, other than what had been changed to begin with. There was no more time for him to just sit and wonder like some child incapable of doing anything; it was time he set out, took matters into his own hands, and restored the valley to normal.

He’d be back soon, he hoped.

XXXX

“Oh, hello!” Snufkin lifted his head just a bit, enough to see Mym and Too-Ticky sitting on their porch together. Mym was standing up from their table, making her way to the edge of their porch to meet him halfway. Snufkin eyed her warily for a moment, just enough for her to cock her head to the side. “Snufkin? Are you ok, dear?”

“Hullo, Mym,” he sighed, dropping his pack on the dirt. “Too-Ticky. How was your winter?”

“Just grand, dearie, just grand.” Too-Ticky said easily, leaning back in her chair, “that bath house of the Moomin’s is high comfortable, even if it is near the beach during the winter. It’s good of them to let me use it.”

“Did something happen?” Mym asked, thoroughly ignoring his question, and Snufkin peered up at her from under his hat again. She sat down on the edge of the porch, next to where he was still standing on the ground. Her big eyes looked worried, and she sounded concerned when she spoke. “It’s not that I’m not happy you’re visiting, Snufkin, honest. I just…wasn’t expecting you until April, maybe May.”

“Can’t I want to see my older sister?” Snufkin huffed, pulling himself onto the porch and taking a seat beside her. Mym gave him a look, a very pointed one that he ignored for a few seconds. “It’s the Valley.”

“As a whole?” Too-Ticky asked.

“I suppose so,” Snufkin said, “for that’s the only thing I can think of that would cause me to visit Mymble early.” Mym reached out and pressed her hand against Snufkin’s back; when he didn’t stiffen or shrug her off, she began rubbing comforting circles on his back.

He hadn’t realized until then how dependent he’d become on Moomin’s hugs, even if he rarely accepted them; now that he wasn’t getting even an offer of them at all, he felt odd and Mym’s hand on his back felt better than ever before. He leaned into her touch, sighing heavily, and managed to catch the tail end of the look she traded with Too-Ticky, one full of concern and unease.

“So what happened?” Mym asked softly. Snufkin sighed through his nose, curling into a ball.

“I left the valley on the first day of winter,” he started, “and everyone saw me off. I spoke to Moomin last, before he went into his hibernation. I spent my winter wandering around, as I am wont to do, and I returned to Moomin Valley on the first day of spring.”

“Yes, this all sounds very like you.” Mym said encouragingly.

“And yet when I returned to the valley, Moomin didn’t come greet me.” Snufkin curled in on himself more. “He’d forgotten about me completely, Mymble. And he hasn’t remembered me since. No one in the valley remembers me, not Moominmamma or Moominpappa, not even Little My or Moomin himself.”

“Well, now, how can that be?” Too-Ticky asked. “And if that’s the case, why haven’t Mymble and I forgotten you?”

“Too-Ticky!” Mym swatted at her gently, but all Snufkin did was raise his head. He peered at Too-Ticky curiously, scratching absentmindedly at the floor beneath him.

“That’s an excellent question.” He said softly. Sitting up, he took his hat off and ran his paw through his hair slowly. “I was wondering if it was magic, because it’s the only thing I could think of where it would affect the Valley as a whole like that.”

“Oh, it’s magic all right dearie.” Too-Ticky said with a solemn nod. “But the question is, what kind of magic? Who would do this? And what reason would they have for it?”

“I thought maybe the Witch who lives in the wood.” Snufkin offered, encouraged by Too-Ticky’s words. “She doesn’t seem to like the Moomins much, or at the very least my Moomin, and she is very powerful. I could see her doing a thing like this, though I’m not sure what her reasoning might be.”

“That would be a good start,” Too-Ticky said, “but you wouldn’t be talking about Alicia’s grandmother?” Snufkin nodded once, and Too-Ticky hummed. “I’d agree with you, dear, but I know for a fact Alicia and her grandmother went on holiday somewhere just before you left the valley. Watched them leave meself, all packed up, and haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since.”

Snufkin pressed his lips together to keep from baring them at Too-Ticky unnecessarily. That had been his only lead, or at least his only hope, and the fact that Too-Ticky had to be the bearer of bad news didn’t mean Snufkin should shoot the messenger. He slumped down, his tail twitching agitatedly under his cloak, and tried to think of something else that would be helpful.

“Well, maybe there was another witch or wizard that stopped by during winter.” Mym said, leaning back on her forearms. Her legs swung out in front of her, the movement careless and loose as she thought. “I know Too-Ticky was by the beach, and everyone else was in their homes of course. I left for the winter as well, though I didn’t go far. I saw Joxaren, briefly.”

Snufkin jumped at the mention of his father, whipping his head to look at Mym the second the name dropped from her lips.

“You saw my dad?” He asked, and Mym tilted her head to the side a bit; just enough to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “Mymble, really. A joke like that isn’t very funny.”

“I saw him!” She insisted. “He looked like he wanted to go into the valley, but when I told him that everyone was hibernating for winter, he lost interest. It was a very brief visit, and I haven’t seen him since.” Snufkin squinted at her, and she laughed. “Swear it on our mother, I haven’t. He might come back soon, he said he’d think about it. But other than that, there wasn’t any other visitor I saw.”

“And everyone in the valley hibernates,” Snufkin grumbled, “which means that even if someone did show up, nobody would ever know. That doesn’t leave me a lot of clues to go on.”

“It doesn’t.” Too-Ticky leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “How go things with Moomin?” Snufkin shot her a look, and she stared back. “He’s your best friend, right? And now, all of a sudden, he’s not. That had to hurt a little, Snufkin.”

“It’s fine.” He answered immediately, not wanting to give her a proper answer. “I finally get the space I wanted, and Moomin has other friends. It’s not like he’s actually missing my company specifically.”

Even as he said it, Snufkin knew it was a lie. Moomin’s absence from his life as his best friend left a deeper ache in his chest than he was willing to admit. It hurt, knowing that there were no hugs to rebuke, or invitations for sleep overs to deny, and Moomin only really needed to be told no once to drop something. It was like Snufkin had gotten his old wish to have Moomin be less clingy than his usual self, and he hated it immensely. Moomin was much more content to run around with Snorkmaiden and Sniff, or even Little My, and Snufkin found himself missing the troll and the quiet moments they shared together.

Heck, he was missing any kind of moments they shared together, quiet or otherwise, because Moomin barely wanted to hang out with him anymore. He knew it wasn’t Moomin’s fault that he forgot about him, but Snufkin still couldn’t help feeling hurt and alone.

He needed to get Moomin back.

“Well, this has been enlightening,” Snufkin started, uncurling from the ground and standing up.

“Oh, you just got here!” Mym said quickly, standing up at the same time as he did. “Stay for lunch, at least, Snufkin. It’s been such a long time since I last saw you.” Snufkin smiled at his sister, not giving her a verbal answer but letting himself drift over to the table where Too-Ticky was still sitting down.

Mym sighed happily, striding over to the table to join them. And even though she and Too-Ticky did most of the talking over lunch, Snufkin found himself feeling a bit more grounded than before; likely it was because even if everyone else had forgotten him, at least his sister and her girlfriend remembered him. It wasn’t the same as Moomin, wasn’t anywhere even close to it, but there was someone at least.

Now he just needed to get to the bottom of this.


	2. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’know, most of this chapter seemed ok when I wrote it. :) now that I’m actually posting it, maybe not so much....hahaha.
> 
> Enjoy!!

** April **

“Oh, hi Snufkin!” He looked up, blinking slowly at Moomin and Little My standing at the foot of the bridge. Little My was glaring at him, standing behind Moomin’s legs, but Moomin himself looked happy to see him. Not as happy as usual, of course, but happy nonetheless. “You’re still here?”

“Yes, of course.” Snufkin said easily. He wondered at what to say for a moment, then continued with, “I find that Moomin Valley is very comforting, and I rather like this location.” Specifically, where his tent was set up. Snufkin had been thinking of it as ‘his’ location, had been for the past couple of years at least, and knew that the residents of Moomin Valley generally thought of it quite the same way in the past.

Well, if they had their memories, they would likely still think of it as his spot. It was his spot, because this was where he always camped when he came back for spring.

“Little My and I were gonna meet Sniff and Snorkmaiden in the field today,” Moomin said, gesturing in the direction of the flower field, and Snufkin blinked in surprise. “We were planning on picking flowers and whatnot. Would you like to join us?”

He considered it briefly, he really did. He’d spent the rest of March hovering at the edges of Moomin Valley, searching its outskirts for any hint of a sign or a clue. Of course, anything that could have been helpful was long gone; Snufkin wasn’t even sure if they’d lost their memories of him at the beginning, the middle, or the end of winter just before he returned.

But he’d made a promise, even if only to himself without Moomin to force him to keep to it, and he had a task to focus on. That meant he couldn’t have any distractions, no matter what.

“That sounds wonderful, Moomintroll.” He started, and then he stopped. Moomin, who’d looked so excited to invite Snufkin, had dropped his shoulders the second he started speaking. Squinting at him just a little, Snufkin said slowly, “unfortunately, I do have- - -”

“Plans, I told you so!” Little My cut him off, and Snufkin dropped his gaze down to her. She bared her teeth at him, as unafraid of him as always, and spit out, “he always has plans, he never wants to play with us. You’re no fun, you know that?” Snufkin glared at her, but she snapped her teeth at him and stormed off. When she was far enough away, she turned on her heel and cupped her hands around her mouth. “What’s the point of being a fucking adventurer if you aren’t gonna share your stories?”

“Little My, language!” Moomin yelled back, and she stomped her foot in order to continue storming off. He looked embarrassed, scratching the back of his head as he turned back to Snufkin. “I’m sorry about her, she can be a bit much sometimes.”

“She is a handful.” Snufkin agreed.

“Well,” Moomin said slowly, “if you change your mind, we’ll be at the field over in that direction.” He gestured towards the West, and Snufkin nodded once. “Picking flowers and just hanging out.” He blinked once, and Moomin rocked forward and back twice. Then he lingered a bit, clearly hoping that he’d change his mind; when he didn’t, he turned on his heel and strode after Little My as quickly as he could.

He looked so…dejected, and Snufkin sort of felt bad about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with Moomin and their friends, but he wasn’t sure what to say or what to do around them anymore. It might seem odd that he knew so much about them, despite them not meeting him until this year, and he didn’t want to say too much and come off as strange.

Instead, he turned around and glanced into the forest behind his campsite. Being such a seasoned traveler meant he’d known exactly where the borders of Moomin Valley were, which was about two hours into the trees. There’d been no hint so far, and Snufkin knew how to comb an area thoroughly.

So it was time to bring his search inward. Not by much, but by about an hour or so.

(“Why on earth would you start on the outskirts?” Too-Ticky asked incredulously. “That’s so far!”

“Yes, but they’ll likely have camped on the outskirts of the valley.” Snufkin explained. “And they definitely had to leave it at some point. I’ll have a better chance of finding which way they went if I search there first.”

“I feel like starting at Moominhouse would be better.” Mym said slowly. “Branch out instead of close in, you know?”

“If was just the Moomin family, maybe I would’ve just started there.” Snufkin said. “But it’s not just them. It’s the whole Valley. I need to know which way they went.”

“If you say so, Snufkin.”)

With one last longing glance in the direction Moomin went with Little My, Snufkin made his way into the forest on his own.

He timed his walking by an hour, then stopped when he hit his mark. The trees were a little denser around here, not good for camping at all, but that wasn’t really what Snufkin was looking for. He dropped to his knees, crawling off of the path to the east and into the bushes, engrossing himself into his search.

His tail flicked from side to side as he moved, growing more agitated the more he searched. There was nothing so far out of place, and when he finally forced himself to come to a stop in the early evening, he’d found nothing of interest. Well, there’d been plenty of interesting things to find along the forest floor, but nothing that would give him any direction in where to go to find this magic user.

Snufkin sprawled on the dirt, his tail flicking occasionally and his ears twitching every so often. He’d have to try again tomorrow, obviously, and he groaned at the thought of spending another whole day searching while getting nowhere. There was a wish, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he could bring Moomin to come searching with him; it had been so long since just the two of them hung out and did anything, and the search would be extensive enough that they wouldn’t even have to talk much.

But Snufkin knew that after a while, Moomin would get bored of searching for something, especially when Snufkin himself didn’t know what they were looking for. And on top of that, Snufkin was usually the only one who came out this far, so Moomin wouldn’t even notice if something was off or out of place or not.

This was a lot harder than Snufkin had anticipated it being, and he forced himself up with a sigh. He needed to get back to his campsite before it got too dark, and he needed to eat something, which meant the search was over for tonight. He would start again in the morning, like always, but morning seemed so far away right now; all he wanted was to be back at his campsite, preferably with Moomin by his side, enjoying a nice dinner together.

The walk back even seemed longer than usual, keeping with the theme of the year; Snufkin was seriously debating the merits of eating or just going to sleep right when he got back when he realized his campsite wasn’t empty. He’d noticed it just in time too, right before he stumbled into danger and still camouflaged by the trees. Sinking down into a crouch again, Snufkin prowled in the dark bushes until he could get a clear view of his own campsite.

Then he stood straight up, head shooting over the bushes and making Moomin jump in surprise.

“Snufkin!” He gasped out, putting his hand over his heart and turning a bright red underneath his white fur. “You scared me, jeez!”

“You startled me!” Snufkin shot back, striding forward into his camp. “What are you doing here?”

“Mamma made dinner,” Moomin shifted uncomfortably, still red but now not looking in his direction at all. “And we had lots leftover. I thought I’d bring you some, since you couldn’t come flower picking with us today.” Snufkin stopped in the middle of his campsite, staring at Moomin with a tilt of his head.

“Well, thank you, Moomin.” He said, slightly stunned. “I appreciate the gesture, it’s very kind of you.” Moomin beamed at him, proud and happy, and Snufkin was helpless to do anything but smile back.

He ignored the frantic thumping of his heart, because he knew it had nothing to do with Moomin startling him at all.

XXXX

It rained most of the next week, and Snufkin was stuck inside his tent for some of it, and using his hat to keep him dry for the rest of it while he fished and did his best to cook. Searching for clues was unfortunately out of the question, because the rain was making everything all muddy and messy. Snufkin normally wouldn’t mind too much, because the rain usually meant he could stay a bit at Moomin House and get his clothes cleaner than usual, even if it meant he also had to get cleaner than usual, but he didn’t have that luxury at the moment.

He sneezed, wiping his nose and pulling the flap back on his tent. Careful to keep himself from getting wet, Snufkin squinted his eyes and peered up at Moomin House; it was all lit up and looked cozy, and Snufkin found himself wishing fervently he was up there.

Moominmamma made the best hot chocolate, and Moomin loved making sure Snufkin got his share before anyone else. And he’d keep Snorkmaiden and Little My away from him, letting him sit against the wall and taking the only available spot at his side. Snufkin hated to be boxed in, hated it with a passion bright enough to light up a thousand suns, but with Moomin it was all right; he was never confining, only warm and soft and very comforting.

And Moominpappa would go on one of his tangents, and entertain all of them with stories of his youth and his travels. He had a slow voice, easy and even when he was in the midst of his stories, and Snufkin never had any trouble sitting and listening. Plus, he’d known the Joxter, and Snufkin liked hearing information about his father that he’d never really get anywhere else.

After a time, Moomin would shift away from him, and that would be a cue for Snufkin too. The both of them would slip away, unnoticed by anyone else, and head up to Moomin’s room. They’d sit in silence in the room, side by side at the window and just watching the rain as it watered the plants and trees and rivers. The noise from downstairs would be present still, but distant, almost as if they were in a bubble together on their own.

When Moomin eventually fell asleep, because he always fell asleep first, Snufkin would pet his snout gently and move him over to his bed. Moomin always fretted about being too heavy for Snufkin, but he’d never had any issue moving Moomin anywhere, really. He’d tuck him into bed and give him a short Moomin kiss that always left him flushing as he made his way out of the window and down the ladder.

He pulled himself out of his own daydream with a squeak, realizing belatedly that he’d been purring. Embarrassment rushed through his body nearly instantly, and Snufkin nearly tore his own tent down yanking the entrance of it too hard. Tying it securely so that it didn’t open again, he retreated to the corner where his bedroll was set up, curling onto it and burying himself underneath the blanket. The small space warmed up quickly, and before long, Snufkin found himself drifting off to sleep.

He closed his eyes and, without even realizing it, slipped into a dream of Moomin.

XXXX

“Hello, Moomintroll.” Moomin perked up from his seat on the fallen log, smiling and waving at him. Snufkin noted that he had a little container of food by his side, and Moomin picked it up to offer it to him.

It seemed like he’d gotten into the habit of bringing Snufkin food when he could, which wasn’t as often as Snufkin would have imagined. Twice last week, and this visit would make twice this week. Snufkin wondered if Moominmamma was really making extra food, or if Moomin was just finding excuses to come see Snufkin.

He wasn’t quite sure which he preferred. Muscle memory was a powerful thing, and Moomin had managed to get Snufkin to eat with the Moomin family at least three times a week if he could swing it. He wouldn’t put it past Moominmamma to still be making extra food, even if she couldn’t figure out why she would be doing such a thing; it wouldn’t be like them to leave the food out to rot either, and so giving it to Snufkin wouldn’t be suspicious at all. After all, in Moominmamma’s eyes, what did it matter who was eating it so long as it was enjoyed and the person was fed?

But it warmed that empty spot in his chest more to think that Moomin was requesting the extra food to bring to him, so they could still share moments together. He ignored that Moomin wouldn’t appreciate said moments, not the way he used to, and that they wouldn’t mean the same to him as they did to Snufkin. He missed his best friend, and if this was the only way he could have him…

“Hey, Snufkin?” He shook his head, taking the container with a smile. Feeling relieved that he wouldn’t have to make dinner, Snufkin set about making a fire so that he could heat up the left over food. Moomin watched him from the log, and Snufkin watched him out of the corner of his eye; Moomin never stayed after he handed the food to him, usually saying his good nights as he walked back up to the house. It was a bit odd that he was just sitting there patiently, waiting for him to acknowledge him.

“Did you need something else, Moomin?” He prompted gently after the fire had started, and Moomin jumped just a little. His cheeks turned red, and he began twisting his tail in his hands.

“I was just wondering…” he started slowly, and Snufkin furrowed his brow. Moomin was acting quite odd, and it would’ve sparked a bright shoot of worry before; now, there was just a vague concern, creeping in around the spaces of his ribs. It wasn’t that he cared for his friend any less than before, nothing like that, but things were so different between them now. He wasn’t sure if his usual amount of care and concern would be appreciated now that they weren’t anywhere as close as they used to be.

“Don’t be afraid, Moomintroll.” Snufkin said gently, and Moomin blinked at him with big blue eyes. Snufkin felt his breath catch in his throat, his mind thrown off by the open look on Moomin’s face, but he swallowed and forced himself to keep his voice even. Moomin needed him to focus, and so he was going to focus. “You know you can tell me anything, I won’t judge you.”

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He blurted out, and Snufkin nearly upended his food in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that, for some reason, and he couldn’t think of how to respond. Moomin took his silence as an encouragement to keep going. “I know you usually do, and I don’t mind honest, but I thought that maybe we could hang out together, just you and me. I have a friend…”

Snufkin lifted his head sharply, eyes wide and heart thundering in his chest, but Moomin seemed to lose his train of thought suddenly; he stiffened up, eyes turned blank and just staring straight ahead. Snufkin nearly upended his food a second time, rushing to Moomin’s side and grasping his shoulder gently. The troll didn’t move for a moment, just sat frozen, and Snufkin nearly shook him in order to get him back.

It wasn’t necessary; nearly a minute after Snufkin touched his shoulder, a full body shudder seemed to rush entirely through Moomin, and he relaxed completely. He didn’t seem to recall saying much, though he sent Snufkin a wide smile when he realized his shoulder was being touched. He thought to leave it there for a moment, and then regretfully took his hand away in order to sit properly next to Moomin.

“You frightened me, Moomin.” Snufkin offered as a reason for the invasion of space, and the little troll giggled.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I was just thinking we could hang out a little tomorrow. If you don’t have your usual plans, that is.” He looked at Snufkin so hopefully that it took him a moment to gather his bearings. He stared at the fire, his mind racing so quickly he couldn’t figure out where to even begin.

Moomin had started to talk of a friend, one that clearly wasn’t around in the valley. Snufkin was the only friend he had that would be the appropriate choice for whatever tangent Moomin was about to go on; he was the only one amongst their friends that sometimes preferred to hang out with Moomintroll by himself, and he was the only one of their friends who would prefer solitude over anything else. On top of that, he would be the only one who wouldn’t be in the valley at any point. Anyone else, Moomin could refer to by name and have his conversation partner know who he was talking of. Snufkin was the only one who tended to be hit or miss in that regard.

But why mention him to himself? Snufkin sighed heavily, mulling over his thoughts. That was odd, not just because Moomin froze up and lost track of where they’d been in conversation. He was sitting right next to him, they had been talking to each other! Why would Moomin feel the need to bring up any information regarding his habits to himself? It would be like telling Little My about her fierceness, or Snorkmaiden about her love for pretty things. It would be highly redundant at worst, wholly unnecessary at best, and completely ridiculous in both scenarios.

And why had Moomin stopped so suddenly? He’d mentioned this “friend” of his and just stopped, almost as if…

As if the magic had taken over and wiped his memory before he could get to it. 

He turned to look at Moomin so suddenly the troll twitched, glancing to the fire in response. Snufkin stared at him with wide eyes, as if he could discover the meaning behind Moomin’s words and the source of the magic in his brain. He’d not actually had a chance to see the spell in action, and now he was wondering if it was because Moomin was talking to him, or if the gatherings of his friends were a mess of people trying to remember Snufkin and failing. His tail twitched agitatedly at the thought, and Snufkin pursed his lips together.

He’d spent all of March and approximately two weeks of April avoiding Moomin and the rest of their friends, though he stubbornly clung to the idea that it was in their best interest that he did. It would be too much for him to suddenly rejoin their group now, frazzled and on edge as he was, but with Moomin alone…

Well. He’d always been up for hanging out with just Moomin. The troll had always known when to speak and when to be quiet, and it had only taken a few attempts at hugs before he’d gotten the message and started asking first. And still, after all this time that had passed since the first day of spring, Snufkin was missing his friend like mad, even when the little troll was sitting directly next to him. Any moment he could get with Moomin, he’d take in a heartbeat if he could. It had been true before, and clearly it still held true now.

And if he was really lucky, Snufkin might finally find something he’d been missing this past month and a half. This might be the clue he’d been so obsessively hunting for, and he’d be a dumb fool for ignoring it when it flashed so obviously in his face.

“A hang out together sounds just lovely, Moomin.” He said softly, and Moomin lit up like the stars. He leaned forward just the slightest bit, and together they made plans to meet up at around noon tomorrow. Snufkin knew it was going to mean abandoning his search for the day, but he couldn’t help but feel like it would be worth it.

And again, he ignored the hammering of his heart against his chest.

XXXX

He hadn’t expected Little My, for some reason.

She’d taken to avoiding him as much as she could, and he’d noticed it right away. It hadn’t bothered him much, at first; his elder sister was a pain in the behind at best and a complete and utter nuisance at worst. She was too loud, sometimes, and Snufkin often wanted to strangle her. Most usually when he was trying to hang out with Moomin by himself, and she insisted on poking her nose where it didn’t need to be.

But he slowly stopped appreciating the silences where Little My would normally screech at him, or the way she would purposefully walk next to him so that he wouldn’t be drifting alone in the back of the group. And he’d always resented the way Little My would just glare at him, all backed by animosity and the will to fight with no hint of attachment behind it.

The last time he’d been yelled at by Little My, Moomin had tried to cover it as best he could. Little My was irritated that Snufkin didn’t want to spend time with her or their friends, he’d said hastily, and if Snufkin would just have a meet up with them she wouldn’t be so grouchy. It would have been a satisfying explanation, and it definitely should have been, only it wasn’t. It was an odd one because Little My didn’t remember him anyway, so what did she care if Snufkin hung out with them or not?

Now he was staring down at her, having grown impatient waiting for Moomin and simply inviting himself up to the house. He’d forgotten Little My lived there as well, and so when he knocked on the door and she’d answered, he’d frozen and had no idea what to say.

“You coming in or what?” She finally snapped, and that seemed to be the key to unlocking Snufkin’s voice again.

“I was waiting on Moomin.” He said, resisting the urge to mess with the rim of his hat. The feeling of embarrassment was rising in his face, turning his cheeks red. He’d only been waiting for an hour, and he’d gotten up fairly early for this out of nerves. There was no reason for him to be here, but here he was. Standing on the Moomin’s porch with Little My rolling her eyes.

“If course you were.” She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and throwing the door open. Turning abruptly on her heel, she stomped her way into the house again. Snufkin stood uncertainly on the porch for a minute before jumping sharply. “Are you coming in or what, stupid?”

“That’s not very nice, Little My.” Snufkin said automatically, and she scoffed loud enough to be heard even over her stomping up the stairs.

“You’re not my mom, I don’t have to listen to you.” She snapped at him. Snufkin turned the tiniest bit red, but before he could respond he heard her shouting at Moomin. “Your stupid boyfriend’s here!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Moomin squeaked it out at the same time Snufkin yelled up the stairs at her, causing Little My to laugh hysterically from upstairs.

Flushing even darker than before, Snufkin turned abruptly on his heel and strode out of Moomin House. He wasn’t ready to face any resident of the house after that debacle, and he needed time to cool off before Moomin could potentially make the situation any worse.

He’d just wait for him at the bridge instead.

XXXX

“Hey, Snufkin?”

“Yes, Moomin?”

“Do you believe in magic?” Snufkin couldn’t help the snort that answered Moomin’s question, and then couldn’t help the soft laughter that left his mouth when Moomin gave him an affronted look. He quickly fell into giggles as well, proving that he wasn’t as offended as he pretended to be, and Snufkin found himself watching him with what was probably a really soft look.

Clearing his throat and turning on his back again, Snufkin tried to will away the red that he could feel dusting his cheeks.

“Why do you ask, Moomin?” The troll hummed, and Snufkin could hear as he turned onto his back again as well. They sat in a debating silence, where Snufkin patiently awaited his friend to speak and Moomin tried to figure what it was he wanted to say. A breeze blew by, ruffling his hat and Snufkin closed his eyes to appreciate it a little more as he waited.

“Well,” and Moomin drew out the word as only Moomin could, with a long ‘e’ sound right in the middle, “Snorkmaiden was talking the other day, about knights and fairytales and curses. She was telling us about her favorite story, where the princess falls into a deep slumber and needs a kiss from her true love to wake her up!”

“I see,” Snufkin said slowly, and when Moomin sighed again, there was a dreamy quality to it. “Do you believe in magic, Moomintroll?”

“I don’t know.” Moomin said simply. “I’d want to, and I know it does exist in some form.”

“Oh?”

“Yea!” Moomin turned so that he was facing Snufkin again, lifting himself onto his elbows. “I even know a Witch! She’s not very nice, though. But her granddaughter’s really nice!” Snufkin pulled himself into a sitting position slowly, turning only his head to watch Moomin. “She doesn’t like it when Alicia plays with us, though. And last time, she almost put a spell on us!”

“Did she now?” Snufkin remembered that, and he sort of wanted to stop Moomin before he said too much; if only because he’d been a large part of that adventure, and he wasn’t sure if Moomin would remember that. He’d been genuinely frightened when Moomin had frozen so suddenly last night, and was trying to avoid the situation happening a second time if he could help it. “You must’ve been very brave, to get away from that. Congratulations, Moomintroll.”

Moomin giggled again, turning away from Snufkin quickly. He would’ve wondered why, but he’d spotted the red flush that was quickly covering Moomin’s cheeks. His chest felt warm and full, and Snufkin found himself smiling warmly at his friend. He couldn’t seem to stop it, either, or tamp it down into something more becoming; when Moomin glanced at him a few seconds later, his eyes widened dramatically and his face flushed even more.

“Hey, you didn’t answer the question!” Moomin exclaimed suddenly, and Snufkin was glad he’d found a topic that didn’t revolve around their blushing. He hummed softly to himself, staring up at the sky for a moment.

“I think there is magic in this world.” He said slowly, and Moomin let out a pleased gasp of surprise. “Natural magic is a given, of course, and that’s what gives us the breezes and the ocean, the trees and flowers and whatnot. There’s a science behind everything, of course, but thinking about it being magic makes me much more appreciative of it, you know?”

“Wow, Snufkin.” Moomin said, awestruck. “That’s really smart of you!”

“Not really,” Snufkin stared at the sky even harder. “Anyway, that’s natural magic. But like, magic for curses? I definitely believe in that. There’s certain things you have to be careful of while traveling, you know, and magic for curses is definitely one of those things. You can’t travel very well as a toad, or if your tent is enchanted to always fall down whenever you set it up, now can you?”

It was also really hard to return to a friend when the friend doesn’t remember you exist, Snufkin wanted to add, but he clamped his lips shut at the last minute and forced the words back down his throat. It wouldn’t do to upset Moomin about something he had no control over, and besides, it’s not like Moomin would know what he was talking about anyway. Better to keep that tidbit of information to himself.

They sat in silence for a moment again, watching as the sun made its way across the sky towards the horizon.

“Hey, Snufkin?”

“Yes, Moomin?”

“Do you ever miss people?” If he hadn’t been expecting the first question, this one slammed into Snufkin out of nowhere. Instead of bursting into giggles, though, he turned to out right stare at Moomin with surprised wide eyes. Moomin wouldn’t look at him, staring up at the sky in contemplation, but since Snufkin was staring at him, he could see the little flickers of Moomin’s eyes that meant he was glancing at him.

“How do you mean?” He asked carefully.

“Well,” And there he drew out the ‘e’ sound again, “you travel a lot, right?” Snufkin nodded once. “And you must meet lots of interesting people on your journeys.” He nodded again. “And sometimes you never even see them again! Don’t you miss them?”

“I don’t suppose I know them well enough to miss them.” Snufkin answered after a moment. “I’ve never met anyone I’ve really hung out with for more than a week or so before we go our separate ways again. And at this point in my life, I’ve met so many people on my trips that they tend to blend into one another, with not a single way for me to distinguish between them at all.”

“Huh.” Moomin sighed.

“Why do you ask, Moomin?” They had another silence, heavier than the first one, and Snufkin nearly repeated his question a second time before Moomin spoke.

“I feel like I’m missing someone.” He said softly, and Snufkin took a deep breath. “Someone close to me. But I don’t know who, and I don’t know how I’m missing someone who I don’t even know.” He twisted his head, and Snufkin found himself pinned down by two blue, watery eyes. “Have you ever felt like that, Snufkin?”

There were so many answers to that question, Snufkin had to stop and think. Different words clamored to be out of his mouth first, different answers that all lead to the same conclusion: ‘I feel like that right now’, because even with Moomin so close to him, the distance between them had never been greater than this instance, and Snufkin feared it would only grow in the coming months unless he did something about it. ‘I know what you mean, Moomintroll, because I’ve felt like that before’, except it was an ever present ache in the now, not one he’d ever felt on his travels alone.

‘I miss someone all the time’, but then he’d have to explain who because Moomin would be curious. And even if he didn’t ask, Snufkin always found himself giving away more information than he needed to. At least, with Moomin, because he knew his secrets would be safe with him.

“I’ve heard of things like that.” Snufkin said instead, his words slow and weighted. “It’s not a fun feeling, missing someone. And though there’s always the chance you’ll meet them again, there’s always the chance that you won’t, too. It’s hard to say what life can throw at us when we’re not expecting it, and sometimes you have to decide if the ache is worth it.”

“Is it?” Moomin asked quietly.

“It depends on what you think.” Snufkin said softly. “Good friends and good family are always worth the ache, but some people aren’t. It’s up to you to decide if the person you’re missing is worth it or not.”

“I don’t even know who it is, though!” Moomin cried out. “How can I decide if I don’t even know who it is I’m missing?”

“I can’t answer that for you.” Snufkin pulled himself into a sitting position, crossing his legs and turning his body to face Moomin. He looked down at him, putting his paw on his snout, and sighed softly. “But I can tell you this. For you to miss them this fiercely, they must have been really important to you. I’m sorry you can’t remember them now, but I promise you that I’ll help you remember them in any way I can. I swear it, Moomintroll.”

“Thanks, Snufkin.” Moomin said thickly; he’d been silent while Snufkin spoke, letting his eyes well up with tears, and he’d taken a moment to answer him once he’d finished. Snufkin had watched, patiently, as the little troll swallowed heavily again and again, as if there’d been a lump in his throat he couldn’t speak around.

Relaxing his shoulders now that his friend seemed to be assuaged, Snufkin laid down on the grass beside him again. Distantly, he felt another tail wrap around his own, and he closed his eyes as the feeling comforted him as well as Moomin. He imagined, in the silence that surrounded them once again, that his best friend was back to normal and this whole debacle was a giant winter dream.

“Hey, Snufkin?”

“Yes, Moomin?”

“What do you think that cloud looks like?” And the lighthearted question once again came so out of left field that Snufkin couldn’t do anything other than snort through his nose and giggle at the affronted look on Moomin’s face.


	3. May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. This is a thing that happened.
> 
> Enjoy!!

** May **

The rain that happened often throughout April finally slowed to a stop when May began. Snufkin went to bed the night before listening to the rain making a rhythm on the canvas of his tent, and woke up in the morning to bright sunshine and chirping birds. Rubbing his eyes as he stretched upwards, Snufkin crawled forward and came out, blinking, into the sun.

It was still far too muddy for him to begin his search now, and Snufkin retreated into his tent long enough to don his cloak and hat, as well as grab his fishing rod, before emerging fully into the sunlight once again.

Still yawning, he made his way over to his usual spot on the bridge and set up his fishing supplies. As he did so, his ear flicked towards a noise that came from Moomin House. Still partially asleep, Snufkin let himself smile widely at the idea of his friend joining him this early in the morning. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling either, and so he reached up and tugged his hat down, hiding the sight of it from the world.

Or, it seemed, only the majority of it.

“That’s a stupid grin you’ve got on your face.” And just like that it was gone; though he didn’t snap his head up, Snufkin lifted it just enough to see Little My standing over him, her arms crossed and her face already set in a dark glare.

“Good morning, Little My.” He said blandly, wondering if Moomin was even awake or if Little My somehow managed to get up all on her own. It was a genuine toss up, because Little My never got up early if she could help it; on the flip side, if she thought people were doing interesting things without her, she’d get up as early as possible to make sure she was included.

“Don’t you ‘good morning’ me!” She snapped back, and Snufkin blinked at her in confusion. Little My seemed more agitated than usual, and Snufkin quite imagined that if she had a tail, it would be lashing in irritation behind her. “I know you keep sneaking off with Moomin. What are you guys doing that’s so interesting?”

“Nothing.” Snufkin said, hoping his voice came out easy instead of defensive. He wasn’t sure why Little My was so angry, other than because they were doing things without her, but her anger was sure to set off his own if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t really want to get into a shouting match with her, if only because he wouldn’t be able to clearly say who won later on. “We just lay in the fields and talk, usually.”

“That can’t be true!” Little My snapped. “Moomin always comes back home all dreamy sighing and starry eyed. You guys _have_ to be doing something cool, and I demand that you take me with you or I’ll tell Moominmamma!”

“Little My!” That came from behind her, and Snufkin shifted his eyes from the angry Mymble to Moomin, who was in the middle of the path. He didn’t look shocked, only angry, and he had his own arms crossed. “That’s not very nice of you. Apologize to Snufkin!”

“Why should I?” Little My shot back. “You guys sneak off like two or three times a week now, and you don’t invite the rest of us. _You’re_ not being very nice, Moomin, and I demand to be included.”

“You don’t demand things, Little My, you ask nicely!” Moomin shot back at her. “Why should Snufkin want to hang out with you anyway? You’ve not been acting very nice to him since he got here!”

“I don’t need to act nice to him!” Little My practically screeched. Snufkin started giving weary glances at Moomin House, because their voices were getting loud enough to wake the Valley completely. He’d already given up fishing as a lost cause; as soon as Little My showed up, his hope for a quiet morning was shattered.

“Then why should he want to hang out with you?” Moomin asked. “He likes me more anyway!” Snufkin turned bright red at that, taking his hat off completely and burying his face into it so that it couldn’t be seen. How like Moomin, to speak without thinking of the repercussions of his own words.

He wasn’t wrong, per say, but still…

“I’m his big sister!” Little My’s words seemed to echo in the Valley, and Snufkin froze again. Forgetting his embarrassment, he yanked his hat off of his face and stared at Little My.

Moomin was staring too, eyes wide and jaw dropped slightly. Snufkin felt like he looked much the same, though there was no way for him to properly tell; he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Little My, who was still glaring at him.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Last week, when Mym came by.” She said. “She visited with me and the Moomins for a bit, and then I followed her when she left. She stopped by your tent to ‘see how things were coming along’,” she uncrossed her arms long enough to make air quotes, “and then made a comment about her being worried about her little brother. And since Mym is also _my_ older sister, that means you’re my little brother too.”

Snufkin honestly wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting her to say; that she found out by following Mym instead of remembering on her own felt odd, like it was a secret. He wasn’t trying to hide anything, really, but he didn’t know what to say now.

“You shouldn’t follow people, Little My, it’s not nice.” Well, Moomin didn’t seem to have the same problem. His voice was softer though, the anger in it gone as he processed the information. “And anyway, how was Snufkin supposed to know you were related? Maybe he only knew he was related to Mym!”

“They- - -”

“We- - -”

“Look exactly the same, Moomin!” They finished at the exact same time, though Snufkin was only gently chiding Moomin and Little My had returned to all out screeching. Little My whipped her head around at him, and he put his hands up in a placating gesture she ignored.

“So you knew!” She said loudly, pointing at him. “You know this whole time, and _didn’t tell me_?” Snufkin reached out to her, and she deftly stepped back. “I had to find out by following Mym? How come she got told but not me?”

“Ok.” Snufkin reached out again, ignoring her as she tried to bat his hands away. Steeling himself as much as he could, Snufkin managed to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a hug. Little My struggled against him, but it was a weak one that didn’t do anything to free her at all. “I’m sorry, Little My.”

“It’s not fair.” Her voice was was muffled against his coat. Snufkin felt as she gripped the back of his cloak tightly in two little fists, holding him to her even as she griped at him. “Is it because she’s nicer than me?”

“That has nothing to do with it.” Snufkin said as soothingly as possibly. His mind raced, wondering how he could salvage this with Little My without telling her too much of the truth. He didn’t really want to lie to her, but honestly, Little My was the kind of person to believe she wasn’t nice enough to be told she had a brother rather than be told that she’d known about him but magic made her forget him.

“I bet it is!” Little My pulled back herself, unintentionally proving his point to himself. She wasn’t crying, or even anywhere close to it, but she still looked furious. “It’s because I yelled at you when you first showed up in March, and I’ve been avoiding you since.”

“Sure.” Snufkin said easily, relieved to have been given an out.

“You _yelled_ at him?” Moomin asked, aghast.

“He woke me up.” Little May shrugged as if that was all the reason she needed. For all Snufkin knew, it probably was. Little My was weird like that, sometimes. “I was having a good dream, and you let me sleep in. I didn’t want to hear stupid songs right then.”

“Little My!” Moomin looked so embarrassed, covering his face with his hands and trying to hide the fact that he was turning red. She stuck her tongue out at him, then plopped herself down on the bridge next to Snufkin’s fishing supplies. Snufkin sat down next to her, peering down into the water and sighing quietly at the lack of fish. As he debated the merit of making another fishing attempt, Moomin sat on his other side, leaning back against his hands and still bright red.

“So,” Little My said, “does that mean the next time you guys hang out, I can go with you?”

XXXX

“So how goes the search, kiddo?” Snufkin didn’t jump at all, though he did close his eyes and keep them closed for a minute. He counted to ten, relaxing his shoulders as he did so, and then opened his eyes again.

“Not very well, unfortunately.” He said, standing up and dusting off his knees. The Joxter was lounging on a tree branch, low enough for him to talk and yet way above Snufkin’s head; he cursed himself for being short, as well as he could without swearing anyway, and watched as the Joxter maneuvered himself so that he was laying on his stomach. “I didn’t know you’d be around so soon.”

“I wouldn’t be around at all,” He said honestly, “but my previous visit was ruined by hibernation, and as much fun as it is stealing from Moomin, it’s really only fun if he’s awake to know it.”

Snufkin felt an irrational surge of anger at his father’s words, and he opened his mouth to give him a stern talking to; at the last second, he remembered that the Joxter had known Moominpappa when he was younger and still named Moomintroll himself. On top of that, his own father often forgot about Snufkin as his own flesh and blood, let alone that his best friend was married now and had a kid. It didn’t make things completely better, but it eased the sting. A bit.

“Aside from that,” Snufkin said, “I haven’t seen you in some time.” He leaned against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms and staring up at his dad. “How’ve things been?”

“Good, good.” The Joxter hummed. “Any luck with the Valley’s memories?” Snufkin pouted, holding himself even tighter. He didn’t know how the Joxter had heard about his situation, seeing as the last time the man had even been near Moomin Valley was when Snufkin was far from it. He didn’t know how much it was his father knew, or what he remembered, and whatever he did know, he was likely to make fun of Snufkin for. Or maybe he wouldn’t, he would be more on the sympathetic side, being as comforting about this whole mess as a Mumrik could be.

He hated talking to his dad sometimes.

“It’s going, I guess.” Snufkin said. “I haven’t found any clues yet, but I’m looking really hard. I’ll find something eventually, I’m sure.” The Joxter laughed, and Snufkin grit his teeth together for a moment. “Did you happen to see anyone coming in or leaving out of the valley? I know Mym saw you over winter.”

“Little snitch, she is.” The Joxter said it fondly, or as fondly as he possibly could, and Snufkin bared his teeth just a little as a warning. A warning the Joxter never saw, granted, but a warning nonetheless. Mym was sweet, and she did her best with everything she could, especially all the dumb kids that Mymblemamma had.

Twice over especially with Little My.

“Did you see anyone?” Snufkin repeated.

“I don’t think so.” The Joxter hummed again. “I barely stayed, to be honest. Too cold for me, and not enough people to appreciate the mischiefs I can get into. Not properly at least. Didn’t really stick around past one night, and that night was just so I didn’t have to travel in the cold dark.”

“Aw, man.” Snufkin groaned softly. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting honestly, but he’d been hoping for something. A sign, a clue, even a direction, anything at all that could’ve helped him in some way. Honestly, he should have known better, but he was running out of options.

Well, it felt like he was. It was still only May, after all, and he was only halfway through his search of the forest right now. Snufkin was sure he’d find something eventually, with or without his father’s help. All he had to do was keep looking.

Maybe some help wouldn’t be so bad, he thought a second time. And it wouldn’t even be Moomin this time, so it was more likely the Joxter would lend a hand, maybe. He tilted his head back, opening his mouth to ask his father if he’d care to lend his assistance, only to stop short and click his mouth shut. The branch his father had been laying on was empty, and Joxaren was nowhere in sight.

XXXX

Little My huffed for the fifth time in an hour, staring moodily at the sky. Next to her, Moomin hummed as he weaved a flower crown together, his nimble fingers better at weaving the stems together than Snufkin. Snufkin was sitting off to the side, playing his harmonica every so often and handing Moomin the flowers around him when he asked.

“This is so _boring_!” Little My exclaimed loudly, also for the fifth time in an hour. Snufkin pulled his harmonica away from his lips, an amused smile curling on the edges of his mouth when Little My glared at him. “Can’t we do something _interesting_?”

“I warned you it would be boring, Little My.” Snufkin reminded her gently. “We really don’t do much at all, other than enjoy the company we have.” Little My pushed herself up, dusting off the back of her dress with an irritated sniff. Then she crossed her arms and glared at Snufkin again.

He was relieved to note that it looked familiar, more like the ones she’d given him last year when she knew who he was.

“I bet,” she said, “that you guys are just _pretending_ that this is all you do. You just don’t want me tagging along with you!” Snufkin raised an eyebrow at her, and she pointed accusingly at him. “I knew it! You _are_ tricking me! I call foul!”

“Little My, why are you so sure this is a trick?” Snufkin asked her, letting his amusement color his words.

“Because!” She said; her voice sounded triumphant, as if she had an ace up her sleeve she’d been waiting to reveal until now, “I’ve- - -”

She stopped so suddenly that they both jumped. Moomin reached out slowly, poking her shoulder with his hand, and Snufkin automatically batted the appendage away. His shoulders around his ears in caution, he pulled himself into a crouching position and made his way to Little My. She was frozen, similar to when Moomin had mentioned his friend, and Snufkin found himself faced with a dilemma.

Was it his proximity? Or was it because they put an effort in to remember him? He still wasn’t sure, and even though he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to, Snufkin was going to have to start being around the others again. At least once or twice, to see if it was him causing these freezing spells or the magic at work.

When Little My gave a full body shudder similar to Moomin’s last month, she didn’t even seem to notice she’d stopped. Heck, she continued running right where she’d left off, even if it was likely down a different path than she’d intended. Her original words were lost to the magic, and Snufkin found his shoulders tensing more and and more as she snapped.

“I’ve always thought you guys were off having adventures with each other, and the fact that you won’t let me come along makes me upset!” She stomped her foot as if to prove it. “And if you guys won’t do something fun, I’ll find someone who will. Like Snorkmaiden.” Little My turned on her heel and stormed off, hands clenched at her sides.

“Whoa.” Moomin said slowly, watching her walk away with wide eyes. “That was really weird.” Snufkin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his tail flicking slowly back and forth under his cloak. Moomin turned to him completely, looking vaguely worried. “Have you ever come across something like that on your travels before?”

“No.” Snufkin straightened with a small frown, staring at Moomin fully now. Maybe he didn’t have to hang with people he knew too well and yet not at all; he didn’t know why it never occurred to him to just ask Moomin. “That hasn’t happened before?”

“No, never.” Moomin said, staring in the direction she’d gone. “What do you think she meant to say?”

“I don’t know.” Snufkin frowned, and Moomin sort of lit up with an idea. Dropping the flower crown to the ground, he stood up and dusted himself off quickly; holding out his hand in offering, he answered Snufkin’s questioning look with a smile.

“Maybe my mamma has an answer for us!” He said excitedly. “In her book!”

Oh, that’s right. Snufkin took Moomin’s hand, smiling at the troll and inwardly chastising himself. He’d forgotten completely about Moominmamma’s spell book, which had a truly astonishing number of spells, counterspells, and remedies from things to a cough to invisibility. Or most likely, anyway, but the point was that he probably should have started with that first and then went from there.

Ah. That was probably why Mym and Too-Ticky were surprised with his decision to start searching the outskirts first. They’d likely remembered about Moominmamma’s book, and thought it would’ve been better to start with that.

They didn’t say anything about it!

Feeling vaguely indignant as he followed Moomin to his house, Snufkin made a mental note to say something to them later. They’d likely have a good laugh over the fact that he’d just barely remembered Moominmamma’s book, but that was all right; so long as it came up at some point or another, he didn’t really mind so much. Besides, now Moomin looked excited to be part of the adventure Snufkin was having, even if he was just barely noticing it now.

“Mamma, Mamma!”

“Yes, Moomin?” Snufkin paled a bit at suddenly being in front of her, but Moominmamma smiled at him gently as she wiped her hands on her apron. There was still no recognition in her smile or in her eyes, but it was already May; Snufkin felt he was rather used to the feeling of being unrecognized by the people of the Valley, even though they’d all known him for quite some time now.

He ignored the light tingling of his body.

“This is Snufkin, he camps out by the river!” Moomin presented him with a grand gesture and a smile, and Snufkin belatedly remembered that he’d never really been properly introduced to anyone here. “He was wondering if we could look at the book your grandma left you.”

“Are you not feeling well, Snufkin?” Moominmamma asked gently, and Snufkin felt his mind race as he tried to think of an answer. She waited for him to speak patiently, not rushing him as he tried to form words together.

“It’s not that _I’m_ not feeling well, it’s rather…” He trailed off and sighed, reaching up to fiddle with his hat. “We had a rather strange encounter with a Little My just now, and- - -”

“Oh, that Little My!” Snufkin stopped, narrowing his eyes wearily, “was she being mean again, dear? I’ll give that girl a talking to, just you wait- - -”

“That’s not it at all!” Snufkin felt it best to interrupt Moominmamma before she really got going; he didn’t want to get his sister in trouble, after all. “No, she froze rather suddenly in the middle of her sentence, and seemed to forget what she was trying to say. We were wondering what the cause of that might be.”

“Oh, I see.” She calmed down almost immediately, smiling gently. “Well, of course! Right this way, boys. I’m sure we’ll have Little My fixed up in no time at all!” Moomin cheered as he followed his mother, dragging Snufkin behind him once again. Snufkin smiled, allowing himself to get swept up in the excitement that Moomin tended to exude with ease.

Privately, he hoped that Moominmamma’s book had what he needed.

XXXX

“Well,” Moomin said slowly; he was likely looking at Snufkin, because he could practically feel the worried gaze on him. He stared at the pages, determined to not even glance at Moomin’s direction. “Maybe we missed something?”

“I doubt it.” Snufkin said, pushing himself against the back of his seat. “We went over the book four times, Moomin. If we missed something, I’d be rather surprised, honestly.”

It came out more snappish than he’d like, and now he had another reason not to look at Moomintroll. He knew the troll was likely hurt by his sharp tone but he just couldn’t help it; he was so frustrated, and he’d have to go back to searching all by himself again.

At this rate, Snufkin knew that he’d be the only one in the whole world who knew every inch of Moomin Valley from top to bottom, and he didn’t even live here full time!

“I’m sorry, Snufkin.” Moomin said softly, and Snufkin felt instantly guilty. He whipped his head around, staring at the troll with wide eyed surprised painted all over his features.

“No, Moomin!” He said loudly, reaching out and placing his hands on Moomin’s cheeks. They turned red under his touch, and Snufkin could feel his own face light up the same, but he kept them there nonetheless. “It’s not your fault, I swear. There was bound to be something Moominmamma’s book didn’t have, its not your fault!”

“You’re not mad at me for it?” Moomin asked, and Snufkin shook his head. Automatically, his thumbs began caressing Moomin’s face gently, brushing against the soft fur there and smoothing it down.

“Of course not, little dove.” He cooed at him gently, and Moomin turned impossibly redder under his palms. Snufkin frowned at him for just a bit before his words and actions caught up with him; he turned just as red, ducking down so that he could hide under the brim of his hat, but didn’t move his hands from Moomin’s face. “L-Like I said. Not your fault at all. The book’s been very helpful in the past, hasn’t it?”

“Yes!” Moomin squeaked out. “Very helpful!”

“It just doesn’t have a solution to this particular problem.” Snufkin said, and he finally managed to pull his hands away from Moomin’s face. They felt cold, suddenly; he focused on closing the book and putting it back where Moominmamma had it. “That’s ok. There’s a solution somewhere, I’ll just have to find it the old fashioned way.”

“You mean, _we’ll_ have to find it the old fashioned way.” Moomin corrected gently, and Snufkin tilted his head up enough to meet Moomin’s eyes. The little troll looked shy, especially flushing as darkly as he was, but also very determined; as if he would do whatever he could to help Snufkin out.

His heart welled with such affection he nearly choked; Moomin barely knew him, now, but he was still so willing to help. He couldn’t believe he was still managing to be friends with this wonderful creature a second time around.

“Yes, Moomin,” He said, “we’ll do it the old fashioned way.”

XXXX

Despite unintentionally agreeing to Moomin’s help, Snufkin found himself leaving his campsite earlier and earlier in an attempt to do as much searching as possible. He woke up just before sunrise, eating something quickly for breakfast and packing himself a light lunch, right before creeping out of his tent and making his way towards where he’d left off the day before. Now that Moominmamma’s book was definitely no longer an option, Snufkin found himself searching harder than ever.

Almost as if he was making up for the lost time he didn’t spend searching throughout the rainy month of April.

He was laying in a flower field, one he recognized as by near the Hemulen’s house, taking a break from his searching and staring up at the sky. The clouds were white and puffy, and Snufkin found himself distracted by them. There was a warm breeze blowing past every so often, pushing the brightly colored flowers into his face and blocking the cloud for a few seconds.

Snufkin closed his eyes, taking the moment to relax and ground himself.

“Hello, Mr. Hemulen!” He stiffened instantly, eyes snapping wide open. That sounded like Snorkmaiden, and where she was, Moomin, Sniff, and Little My tended to not be far behind. His ears pricked up, swiveling on his head as he picked up the sounds of the others.

“Oh, hello, Snorkmaiden!” The Hemulen sounded pleased. “Moomin, Sniff, Little My.” He knew it. “What brings you up here today?”

“Flower picking, Mr. Hemulen.” That was Moomin’s voice! Snufkin found his heart beating faster, even as his body relaxed and his eyes half closed. He was thankful he’d been lying down now; the flowers were high enough that they hid him from the world, though that wasn’t likely to last long if they were there to pick flowers.

Snufkin was mentally trying to plan his escape when Little My spoke up loudly; in his panic, he’d briefly lost track of their conversation.

“No, don’t put this on me! We’re here because _someone_ has decided,” and her voice dripped with disdain and clear disgust, “that he’d rather be cooped up in his room feeling lovesick rather than enjoy the day with the rest of us.” She ignored Moomin’s cry of protest, sounding proud as she said, “and _I_ was just the one to force him out!”

“I’m not acting lovesick, Little My!” Moomin said loudly.

“You were!” She shot back. “It was terrible. All sitting by his window, staring longingly at that stupid campsite- - -”

“ _Little My_!” Moomin squeaked out, and she laughed.

“Ok, ok!” That was Snorkmaiden again. “Let’s stop picking on Moomin, ok?” She paused, and though Snufkin could practically see the smug look Moomin gave Little My, she continued right before anyone could say anything else. “I know we aren’t necessarily as grand or as interesting as Snufkin- - -”

“Snorkmaiden!” Moomin cried, just barely heard over Little My’s cackles. Snufkin allowed a small smile to creep into his face, listening as the group interacted with each other.

“Ok, ok.” Snorkmaiden was giggling, but she sounded a little apologetic when she spoke to Moomin. “I’m sorry, we just had to tease you a little, Moomin. We’ll stop now, honest.”

“It’s not our fault, either,” Sniff sounded like he’d been laughing too, and Snufkin hadn’t realized how much he missed this particular group of people until he couldn’t really hang out with them anymore. “You’ve been awfully forlorn whenever this Snufkin isn’t around, and if you’re not sighing while hanging out with us, you’re sneaking off with him.”

“What’s so special about him anyway?” Snorkmaiden asked, and any affection vanished in the blink of an eye. Snufkin found a lump in his throat instead, and he slowly reached up to pull at the brim of his hat. He’d pull it over his face completely, but he was afraid the pointy end would stick out over the flowers and give him away.

“I don’t know, really.” Moomin said slowly. Little My scoffed, and Snufkin could hear her bouncing around in the plants; he sort of curled in on himself more, trying to make himself smaller as if that would keep her from finding him on accident. “I don’t! I just…I feel like he’s alone.”

“Some people like that, you know.” Little My said pointedly. Her voice raised and lowered as she moved, constantly giving Snufkin an idea of where she was “Like the Joxter. He liked being alone better than anything, even being with Mama.”

“How do you know?” Snorkmaiden and Moomin asked, though Snorkmaiden sounded curious and Moomin just sounded annoyed. Snufkin wondered how many of his friends actually knew about the Joxter, and then remembered that Moominpappa had given a detailed explanation of the Mumrik last autumn.

“The Joxter was my dad’s friend, Little My.” Moomin added on, as if confirming Snufkin’s thought.

“Yes, but he was also in love with my mom for a bit!” Little My shot back. “He used to hang around every so often, though he doesn’t really anymore. Too many kids, not enough room for quiet. And, again, he likes being alone.” Snufkin bit his lip, wondering if now was the opportunity to get away. He wondered if he still had that opportunity, or if he was now stuck just listening to his friends for the rest of the day.

“Yea but I feel like it’s different!” Moomin said. “Maybe not alone then. Lonely. There’s a difference, between being alone and being lonely.”

“I don’t think there is.” Little My said, and Snufkin heard her footsteps go the opposite way from him again. “It’s basically the same thing anyway.”

“It’s different!” Moomin insisted. “It’s different, and I don’t want him to be lonely. It’s not fun, being lonely.” He sounded a bit sad, and Snufkin found himself feeling a bit sad with him. “That’s all. He needs a friend.”

“How do you know?” Snorkmaiden asked him, and Moomin hummed at her in question. “How do you know he needs a friend? Did he ask for one?”

“Well, no, but- - -”

“Like I said,” Little My said, “the Joxter liked being alone more than anything else. And Snufkin looks just him. So Snufkin probably likes being alone more than anything too. You’re probably bugging him, Moomin, by trying to hang around him all the time like that.”

“You think so?” Moomin asked her, and Little My made a noise that sounded uncaring.

Snufkin wanted to say something, felt the urge deep in his chest and bones, and yet found himself frozen; he couldn’t bring himself to stand, laying hidden in the fields by the Hemulen’s house while his friends played just a short distance away.

He’d told Moomin that, way back in the early years of their friendship. He could remember, as clearly as one possibly could after many years, the way they sat together at the bridge during an autumn, right before Snufkin had to leave. Moomin had asked if he ever felt alone while traveling, and Snufkin had told him- - -

(“It’s not the being alone part that I mind.”

“No?”

“No, I like being alone. Sometimes, I just need to go and be by myself for a bit. Recharge from having to deal with so many people at times. It does me wonders, being alone.”

“Oh.”

“It does get a little lonely, sometimes.”

“Is that so different?”

“It is, Moomin. If I’m alone, it’s because I want to be. I choose that. But being lonely, that’s something that can quickly become all encompassing. I can be with a whole caravan of people, and feel more lonely than being on my own. I’ve felt alone before, and I’ve felt lonely. I’d much rather feel alone, because I can choose when to be alone and when not to.”)

It was so long ago, though, that Snufkin barely remembered telling Moomin to begin with; they’d been friends so long and had so many other conversations and events happen in between then and now. He couldn’t even believe that Moomin could recall that conversation right now, because Moomin couldn’t even remember him.

So how did Moomin remember that?


	4. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am...not in any way prepared to post this chapter at all. :)
> 
> On the other hand, I’ve been waiting anxiously to post it.
> 
> Enjoy!!

** June **

With June came little bugs and hotter days, and Moomin standing at the entrance to Snufkin’s tent with a pleading look at the end of the day. Snufkin, ever helpless to his best friend and his whims as he ever would be, was finding it very difficult to say no. Again, he didn’t mind spending time with Moomin, he never had; that wasn’t the issue. The issue was- - -

“It would just be a short trip, Snufkin, really! It could be fun!” Snufkin sighed, running his hand over his face to hide the smile that was trying to grow without his permission.

“I don’t doubt that.” He said. “But a sea trip? I haven’t been on one in ages, I think. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself!”

“You wouldn’t have to do anything!” Moomin exclaimed. “Well, you might have to help me row when the wind dies, but you can do what you want! An ocean adventure would be great, and since I know you love the sea- - -”

“I what?” Snufkin stared at him, struck momentarily dumb, but Moomin just blinked at him twice. They stood in silence for a moment, Snufkin barely breathing and his heart thumping so loudly in his ears he was sure Moomin could hear it. His ears twitched under his hat, the anticipatory silence racking up the tension in Snufkin’s shoulder.

“I said, who couldn’t love the sea?” Moomin said, but that hadn’t been it at all and Snufkin nearly threw his hands up in frustration. He was no closer to finding the answer now than he was in March, and the little hints that Moomin knew of him while not actually knowing it was him was driving him mad. “It would be so much fun, Snufkin, please?”

“I suppose it won’t be so bad.” Snufkin said slowly. Moomin’s responding smile was bright and blinding, and Snufkin felt his face turn red the longer it was directed at him. Ducking his head down, he opened his mouth to ask about Snorkmaiden and Sniff, and just changed his question at the last moment. “Who else would be coming with us on this trip?”

“Snorkmaiden,” Moomin answered dutifully, “and Little My, Mamma and Pappa, me, and now you!” He sounded so excited that Snufkin agreed, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision despite how much it would set him back.

Maybe it wouldn’t though; he’d searched through half of Moomin Valley by now, meticulously and unluckier with each passing day. It honestly wasn’t even that big, and Snufkin found that each day his circle around the town got smaller and smaller. He was almost completed with his search, surprisingly, and he wasn’t really sure where to go from there.

And it was starting to take its toll on him, though perhaps not in the way he expected; each passing day meant he felt lighter and lighter, and even now he was standing somewhat awkwardly because of his feet.

They’d disappeared this morning, causing his heart to stop even as he glared down at them in confusion. He was running out of time quicker than he thought, because while searching wouldn’t be impossible, being invisible and unheard would make it very, very, very close. Close enough to impossible that Snufkin would likely have to give up, much as he wouldn’t want to at all.

“Snufkin?” He hummed, blinking at Moomin and realizing that the little troll looked worried. Oh, he zoned out, and Moomin must’ve been calling him; he offered Moomin a smile, and it seemed to assuage his fears without either of them saying anything. “I have to get back, but we meet in the afternoon on the beach in three days. Pack only what you’ll need. Mamma and Pappa will take care of everything else!”

“Got it, Moomin.” Snufkin said easily. “Three days.”

“Three days!” Moomin repeated as he ran up the bridge again. Snufkin watched as he practically skipped away, trying and failing to tamp down the smile crossing his face. He remembered when Moomin was always so easily excited by his presence; not that he wasn’t now, but it wasn’t the same.

He had grown more understanding over the course of their friendship, when Snufkin couldn’t interact because he was too overwhelmed and needed to be alone. He could tell the difference between Snufkin wanting to be alone, Snufkin wanting company but silence, and when he wanted company without silence but didn’t seem to know it. He knew when Snufkin just wanted to hang out with him, or when the others became too much and he needed to get away.

This version of Moomin seemed to still have that kind of knowledge tucked away, but didn’t seem to understand where it came from; the actions came more from something similar to muscle memory, though they were no less genuine because of it. It reminded Snufkin more of when they’d met when they were younger, and while it was a nice reminder, he missed his own Moomin fiercely.

It seemed like Snufkin missed him more and more each passing day, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

He waited until Moomin got all the way back up to his house, then turned to his own tent and crawled inside. Leaving the flap open, he collapsed in a sweaty pile on his bedroll, sprawling out as much as he could in his tent.

Moomin had been waiting for him as usual, with extra food from Moominmamma and the invitation to go on a boat trip with them. And even though Snufkin was tired from his long day of searching, and the heat of the day beating down on him, there was no way Snufkin would have been able to send Moomin away. It felt like it went against his very nature to do so, and he so hated to go against his own nature.

The evening air blew through the tent, and Snufkin closed his eyes to further appreciate it. He let the wind ruffle his hair playfully, and as he used it to cool off and relax, he found his mind drifting towards other things.

Things like the absolutely heart warming way Moomin smiled, and the way he managed to lift Snufkin’s fears and worries with ease. The knowledge of how Snufkin operated, even as deeply buried as it was now, and how he used that to his advantage and Snufkin never ever got upset with him for it. How soft his paws were, and how they felt in his own whenever Moomin grabbed him so that they wouldn’t get separated; how Moomin wouldn’t let go, and neither would Snufkin, and they’d go on until someone else pointed it out to them. How blue and vibrant his eyes were, and how soft his snout was when- - -

Snufkin jolted himself suddenly, hyper aware of the direction his thoughts were going and how they very much _should **not** be heading there, thank you very much_! He could feel himself flushing deeply, and found himself beyond grateful that Moomin had gone home already, and that Little My was kept in the house now that it was late.

Burying his face in his hands, Snufkin suddenly found himself regretting his agreement to go on this trip. Even if Moomin wasn’t able to tell how he felt, Little My had this bad habit of discovering anything she felt was kept secret from her; surely she would be the one to point out his embarrassing crush, and that would just be the worst. Who even knew how long they’d be stuck together on the boat, and…and…

Still. It wasn’t like he could just. Not go. That was silly.

XXXX

“Are you sure that’s a wise idea, Snufkin?” Mym asked gently, when he told her about the trip. She and Too-Ticky were sitting together, and Snufkin was sitting opposite them at the table. They’d agreed to meet at the beach house, because Moominmamma and Moominpappa were not using it now that they were planning on going on holiday.

“I already told Moomin I would go.” Snufkin pointed out. “We leave tomorrow, and I can’t just back out now. I have to go.”

“You know how long you’re gonna be gone for?” Too-Ticky asked, and Snufkin shrugged one of his shoulders almost carelessly.

“I remember our first boat trip, Moominpappa just took us wherever.” Snufkin said. “We were only gone for a little bit, it was a small trip. It’s likely to be another small trip, I can’t see Snorkmaiden being too appreciative of such a small boat after too long. It should be fine, we’ll be back with plenty of time.”

“What about your search?” Mym asked, and she looked so genuinely worried that Snufkin felt bad. He hated worrying people, and he hated having someone worried _for_ him, but Mym was his oldest sister and she was worried about him regardless. Snufkin almost wanted to ask her to quit it, but he knew she couldn’t help it. She was the first born, and the oldest amongst all of the kids Mymblemamma had.

It was her nature, after all.

“I’m mostly done, and haven’t found a single thing.” Snufkin said. “And it’ll likely be the same when I get back. And I _promised_ Moomin I would go, I have to go, Mym!” Mym didn’t look convinced, and Snufkin sighed softly. He wasn’t sure what he could say anymore to make it better for her.

“If it really bothers you, little love,” Too-Ticky said, and both their gazes snapped to her; she was leaning back casually in her own seat, arm slung over the back of it as she angled her body towards her girlfriend so that she could better look at her, “we can search Moomin Valley while everyone is gone.”

“What?” Mym sounded startled, and even Snufkin had a hard time believing his own ears.

“Too-Ticky, what are you promising?” He asked her.

“Well, I reckon I’m just as seasoned a traveler as you, Snufkin,” Too-Ticky said with a wink, “and if we do a poor job, you can go over it again knowing there isn’t as much to look through. But it’s better than leaving it at a standstill while you’re gone, and at least this way you can know that your search for the Valley’s memories isn’t being pushed to the side.”

Mym looked starstruck, giving Too-Ticky a look that would surely make Little My gag if she was here. Snufkin hummed, pitting his finger to his chin as he thought and mulled over the option given to him. Too-Ticky didn’t move, looking assured of herself even as she waited for Snufkin to pass his own judgement.

“I can work with that.” He said slowly, smiling at Too-Ticky’s grin and Mym’s cheer. “It is better than nothing, after all, and I do trust you and Mym to do as thorough a job you can. There’s two of you looking, so there’s no excuse for you to do a bad job of searching.”

“Good.” Too-Ticky leaned forward. “Now that that’s settled, I’m gonna need to know exactly where you’ve left off, Snufkin. I don’t want to search some place you’ve already looked.”

“It’s only while I’m gone, it shouldn’t be too long.” Snufkin laughed, but Too-Ticky looked serious, and so he leaned forward as well.

It wouldn’t hurt to help them outline where to start looking, after all. And like Too-Ticky said, if he truly wasn’t pleased with it, it’ll be easier knowing they’ve already begun the search and he was just finishing it.

XXXX

He woke up bright and early the day they were supposed to meet at the beach, and he packed up his bedroll, his harmonica, his pillow, and his blanket. Moominpappa was likely going to bring his own tent, which should be big enough to cover all of them if he remembered correctly, and Moominmamma was definitely planning on bringing half of her kitchen with her. Snufkin didn’t need to worry about shelter or food, just needed to make sure he was comfortable for the trip.

His feet had become visible again sometime before he’d gone to visit Mym, though they were still lighter than before. Snufkin didn’t mind it; lighter was less obvious than not there at all, and as the one who was trying not to be invisible, he felt like beggars shouldn’t be choosers.

Making sure his hat was firmly on his head, Snufkin made his way over to the beach. It was still quite early, not yet anywhere near noon at all, but he figured that it would be better to have everyone meet him as they congregated on the beach, rather than him meet everyone else.

And anyway, he wanted a chance to sit and enjoy the ocean in silence for just a little bit. Once he was on the boat, there would be a lot to do and Little My to contend with. There wouldn’t be much in the way of appreciating the gentle waves of the ocean then, so it’d do him some good to get all that taken care of before he lost that chance.

That’s what he told himself, anyway, and he firmly believed it right up until he actually got to the beach.

It was cold, likely because it was still early morning, and Snufkin sat down on the sand. His cloak was heavy enough to keep him warm even from the cold sea wind, and he pulled his knees up to his chest so that it covered him from neck to toe. He yawned, the earliness of the day catching up to him, and snuggled into himself even more.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Little My’s voice was coming from the beach path. Lifting his head wearily, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes just as the Moomin family and Little My came onto the beach.

“Hello, Snufkin!” Moominpappa said brightly, and Snufkin found himself feeling a little bit heavier. “Moomin mentioned you’d be joining us as well. Fully prepared for the trip?”

“As much as I can be.” Snufkin said easily, standing and dusting himself off. “Is this going to be a wandering trip, or do you have a location set in mind already?”

“Set in mind!” Moomin said brightly, coming to a stop in front of him. He looked so excited, he was practically vibrating in one place and Snufkin felt the urge to calm him down somehow; he put his hands on Moomin’s shoulders, right on top of the straps from his backpack, and Moomin’s trembles slowed. “We’re gonna head to an island a little ways away. Hopefully there won’t be any Hattifattners there!”

“Back to that island?” Snufkin questioned, right as Snorkmaiden came up with her items and Snork.

“Back to what island?” She asked, which turned Moomin’a attention to her. Snufkin dropped his head into his hands briefly, silently berating himself for saying something stupid like that, and lifted his head in time to catch a suspicious glare from Little My. He offered her a small smile, but that only made her glare harder at him.

He knew she caught his slip, even if Moomin hadn’t. Briefly, he wondered what she was going to do with that before forcing himself to focus on the panicking Moomin and unhappy Snorkmaiden.

“It won’t be so bad!” Moomin was saying, looking almost frantic. “There probably won’t even be any Hattifattners this time, Snorkmaiden! Pappa says the last major storm was a couple of days ago!”

“There better not be, Moomintroll!” Snorkmaiden cried, while her brother laughed and put her things on the boat. “Things didn’t end up so well for me last time- - -for me, or for my hair!”

“If Moominpappa says there won’t be, there most likely won’t be!” Little My shrugged, joining in on their conversation finally. Snufkin kept an eye on her, making the mental note to not be left alone with her anytime soon. “I, personally, would like to explore that island some more. I don’t really feel I got the chance to last time.” She turned her head just slightly, just enough to put Snufkin in her line of sight. “Right, Snufkin?”

“Little My, don’t tease.” Moominmamma said gently, picking her up and easily ignoring her startled yell. “Why don’t you help me with loading some of the stuff? Moomin, Snufkin, you boys lend a hand as well, please. Pappa would like to set off as soon as possible!”

“Yes, Mamma!”

“Yes, Ma’am!” They both rushed to grab things, leaving Snorkmaiden to say goodbye to her brother. Snufkin made sure to load things properly into the boat, remembering from before where things fit into it the first time around. They packed quickly, and set off even quicker than that, waving goodbye to Snork left alone on the beach.

“He didn’t want to come this time, either?” Moomin asked Snorkmaiden gently.

“No, he’s still much more interested in landboats,” Snorkmaiden said with a roll of her eyes. “You’d think he’d want a break every once in a while, but nope! He just wants to focus on that.”

“Well, he’s almost got it, hasn’t he?” Little My asked, and Snorkmaiden shrugged shortly.

“What a beautiful day for sailing!” Moominpappa said, talking loud enough to gain everyone’s attention. He was staring up at the sky with his eyes closed, and it encouraged everyone else to briefly do the same; the wind was warm now, not cold, and it smelled so much like the sea that Snufkin felt his body go light in a rather positive manner.

Without thinking, he shook out his harmonica and jumped onto the wide edge of the boat. He put it to his lips, quite easily playing the first few bars of something that sounded positively cheerful. Someone began clapping along, probably Moomin or Moominmama, and before he knew it, the whole boat was alive with cheer and claps and his music.

He felt a brief flare of regret they weren’t on dry land, if only because he knew they’d want to dance during such cheerful tunes, and there was no way to do so on the boat. It was gone quickly, though, especially once he’d opened his eyes and spotted Moomin, clapping and staring at him with wide blue eyes. Their gazes met and locked, and Snufkin found himself feeling lighter than air.

And then the song ended, and Snufkin realized it had started sounding love-struck as well as happy, and he buried himself with round of applause Moominpappa had struck up for him. Within moments, there were shouts of requests, and Snufkin was designated to be the one to entertain them while they waited to make land again. He didn’t mind it, for once, enjoying the attention of the friends he’d missed so much this year, and fairly hopped around the boat where he could with his harmonica at his lips.

And if his eyes met Moomin’s and lingered every so often…

Well. Who would really notice?

XXXX

He didn’t quite recall it taking this long to get to the island, but yet here they were; no more songs, since he’d needed to take a break and catch his breath, and still at sea.

“Oh, Snufkin!” Snorkmaiden grabbed his arm from quite out of the blue, tugging him away from Moomin and the others with gentle pulls. Snufkin let her, amused by her antics and missing the times they’d been aimed at him before. “Come sit with me a while, let’s have a chat!”

“All right, Snorkmaiden.” He said easily, settling down on the edge of the boat. The water sprayed upwards, misting his cloak, and Snufkin let it with a deep breath; he loved the scent of the ocean, loved the feel of sea salt wind in his hair and sun warmed water on his face.

His eyes were closed as he appreciated the ocean, and so he only felt as Snorkmaiden’s elbow pressed against his knee. He opened his eyes and gave her a kind smile, one she returned with ease. She was very pretty, Snufkin noticed, and last he remembered, very taken with Moomin. He knew there was speculation, especially with Mrs. Fillyjonk, that the two of them would be married at some point in the near future. He supposed that should have made him happy, but he couldn’t quite muster up the emotion; honestly, the thought of her and Moomin someday getting married made his heart drop into his stomach.

He wasn’t quite sure where that thought had come from so suddenly, and so he banished it from his mind before it could taint the smile on his face.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked her gently.

“Moomin.” Was her immediate response. Snufkin let out a small laugh, closing his eyes again and leaning against the wooden curve on the boat. He should have guessed, especially since she’d taken great care to make sure Moomin didn’t follow them. Sometimes it seemed that pretty jewelry, pretty shells, or Moomin were her favorite topics of conversation.

(He’d missed it so much more than he wanted to admit.)

“Do you love him?” She asked.

“He’s a very good friend.” Snufkin said honestly, because he was.

“That’s not what I meant.” Snorkmaiden pushed. He opened his eyes and stared down at her, and found that she had been staring up at him already. She didn’t look sad, or unhappy, just curious, and Snufkin found his throat closing up. “Do you love him?”

Oh, why had he let her separate them from the others? He glanced at them, pleading for help, but nobody noticed them and so nobody could save him. Or nobody would, and he couldn’t decide which was worse.

“He talks about you all the time, you know.” She added, and Snufkin found his eyes drifting over towards Moomin; the young troll was laughing with his mamma and Little My, and Snufkin found that the ball of panic growing in his chest was soothed by the sight of him. Snorkmaiden kept talking. “Everything is always Snufkin this, Snufkin that. Even before.”

“Before what?” Snufkin asked her, suddenly drawn to her again; she was frowning faintly, her paw pressing against her temple gently. She looked confused, and while he wanted to reassure her, Snufkin needed his answer more urgently. “Snorkmaiden, before what?”

“I…I’m not sure.” She said slowly. Snufkin thunked his head against the wood, hard, but she didn’t seem to notice; her eyes had closed and she was frowning now, speaking slowly as if she wasn’t sure of what she was saying. “I just know that he always talked about you, even before. And he…hums music that sounds like it comes from your mouth organ.”

“Don’t force it,” Snufkin said gently; he leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, his brow furrowing the deeper her frown went. “Let it go, Snorkmaiden, come on. Please.”

She didn’t move for a long moment, then blinked her eyes open slowly and leaned against the boat. Snufkin did the same, watching her wearily and making sure she didn’t fall into the magic all over again. After a moment where they sat in silence, she looked up at him. Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, and Snufkin has enough time to tense up before she asked,

“So, do you love Moomin or not?”

XXXX

The tent was so much smaller than Snufkin remembered, or perhaps they had grown while he wasn’t looking. He wasn’t entirely sure which was more true, though if he was a betting Mumrik he’d put his money on the latter, but he was beginning to regret not bringing his own tent.

Moominpappa snored gently from the front of the tent, like he’d been expecting, and Moominmamma slept quietly beside him. Little My thrashed around a bit in her sleep, sometimes gnashing her teeth. Snorkmaiden made little sighing sounds, every so often twisting onto her back or her side.

Snufkin pressed against the fabric of the tent, hyper aware of the fact that he and Moomin were touching from shoulder to hip. There wasn’t really anywhere else he could go, because if he leaned into the tent more he ran the risk of knocking it down. He could tell Moomin wasn’t asleep either, despite how relaxed he felt against his side, and was debating on whether or not he should say something when Moomin spoke.

“Hey, Snufkin?” He was quiet, quieter than Snufkin had expected Moomin to be for some reason, and he turned onto his side to better see his friend.

“Yes, Moomin?” He whispered back, and he watched as Moomin turned to face him. He wondered about Moomin’s eyesight, as he often did during their adventures in the dark; Snufkin could see clearly, even if it was a bit dark, and he was curious if Moomin could see him as well as he could.

“Want to go for a walk?” Moomin asked, and Snufkin grinned in response. With a quiet agreement so that Moomin would know for sure, he shifted so that he could stand without waking anyone else up. Moomin was a bit more careful as he got up, but together they made it outside without disturbing anyone.

Snufkin breathed in the night air, his shoulders relaxing as the open air soothed his frazzled nerves. He could feel Moomin staring at him, waiting patiently to the side as Snufkin let himself become one with nature.

The moon smiled down at them as they began their walk, crescent shaped and providing just enough light for Moomin to see as well. They didn’t talk much as they walked, the quiet of the night only interrupted by their soft footsteps on the grass. It was nice, and Snufkin was beginning to wonder if Moomin had a particular destination in mind, or if they were just walking to walk.

He didn’t really mind it either way; any time spent with Moomin was always time well spent.

The island they’d landed on was empty, completely so for this time of month, and so familiar that Snufkin had bit back a groan at the sight of it nearly the instant he’d seen it. Moomin had been excited to see it again, and Snorkmaiden had wished fervently that the Hattifattners weren’t there like they were last time.

(“They’d ruined my beautiful hair!” Snorkmaiden had said dramatically, touching the affected portion protectively. Snufkin had stifled an amused smile, hiding his reaction so as not to offend her unintentionally.

“It wasn’t that bad!” Moomin had tried to say, for quite nearly the third time, but Snorkmaiden had glared at him and crossed her arms.

“It looked terrible, and took forever to grow back!” She had retorted. “It was a very unpleasant time in my life, thank you very much!”)

Right now it was still, and nothing interrupted their silence until Moomin came to a slow stop. Snufkin stopped next to him, watching as he peered in two different directions before going to his left, prompting Snufkin to follow him. Feeling amused now that he knew there was a destination in mind, and having an idea of what it was, Snufkin allowed himself to be led through the trees until they came upon cliffs that opened up to the ocean.

They sat at the edge together, and Snufkin stared down at the reflection of the night sky in the water. This was where he’d taken Moomin, that first time around, to watch the Hattifattners leave the island. It had seemed so magical, watching the sunrise and them sailing away, and he’d not wanted to experience it with anyone else.

This was magical in its own way, and Snufkin found himself quite breathless. There was an anticipation in the air, one he couldn’t get his head around, and it made the star speckled sea seem even more magical.

“Hey, Snufkin?” He hummed at Moomin’s quiet voice, and the little troll continued, “I’m really glad you came with us. And that you’re here with me now.”

“Of course, Moomin.” He said softly. “I appreciate you extending the invitation to me.”

“It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” Moomin said, and Snufkin looked at him curiously. He was slowly turning red under the light of the moon, and Snufkin almost missed what he said next; the moonlight made Moomin shine gently, almost as if he was a moon beam from the sky, and Snufkin felt the strangest urge to find a way to keep him here, beside Snufkin on earth. As if Moomin would vanish when the moon set and the sun rose in the morning. “I can’t explain, really, but…you had to be here with us. It was important.”

He reached out and touched Moomin’s paw, twining their fingers together; the red that covered Moomin’s face spread over to Snufkin. Moomin turned and stared at him, and Snufkin found their gazes locked for a long moment before- - -

He blinked, once, slowly and lazily, and Moomin just stared back. The grip on his hand tightened, almost to the point of pain but not quite, and then Moomin mimicked the action back to him. A purr burst out of Snufkin’s chest, interrupting their moment and making the both of them jump. Moomin laughed, sounding excited and breathless, and Snufkin ducked his head to the side; he sort of wished he’d thought to grab his hat on the way out, but he didn’t.

On the side of his head, he felt something against his hair; he turned in time to see Moomin pulling away shyly, fidgeting with his tail and a darker shade of red Snufkin had ever seen him. It took a moment to register that he’d been kissed, a Moomin kiss; he bent over double so quickly, he banged his nose on his knees trying to hide how red his own face had gotten.

“Snufkin?!” Moomin sounded startled, though he didn’t let his voice get too loud. Snufkin’s nose throbbed slightly, but he kept his face down. Just in case.

“I’m ok!” He called back in the same kind of tone Moomin used. “I’m fine, it’s good, everything’s fine!” He could still feel Moomin’s paw in his own, still feel the warmth from being pressed against his friend so firmly.

Where they more than friends, now? Moomin kissed him, a Moomin kiss, and though Snufkin really desperately wanted him to do it again…

He paled quickly, throwing his head back up and staring up with wide eyes at the moon. There was the matter of the spell, and Snufkin felt completely foolish all of a sudden. They were older now than before, and so of course Moomin’s admiration of him- - -the one he recalled being so prominent in their childhood, which the Moomin of now reminded him of- - -would turn into something like this. Moomin didn’t even really have any memories of the things they’d done together, what would he know about his actual feelings for Snufkin?

“We should head back.” Snufkin said, his voice a normal volume. Moomin was staring at him now, his brows furrowed in confusion, and Snufkin found himself swallowing heavily. “The morning will come soon, and it’ll come sooner still if we sleep.”

“Oh…right.” Moomin smiled, but Snufkin could tell something was off about it even if he couldn’t bring himself to look at Moomin fully.

The walk back was made in silence, but it was a different kind of silence from before. The other silence was calm and comforting, knowing that there wasn’t anything to be said to enjoy the moment. This one was oppressing and heavy with all the words Snufkin couldn’t say, either because it wouldn’t make sense or because he didn’t have the ability to say it out loud anyway. The trip back was shorter, and before long they stumbled onto the tent.

They easily made their way in, not waking anyone else as they got back to their respective spots. Moomin turned so that his back was to Snufkin this time, causing him to curl a bit around Little My. Snufkin did the same thing, using his hat to hide his face completely from the rest of the tent’s occupants. It wasn’t until the daybreak, where the sun brightened even the space under his hat, that Snufkin realized what Moomin’s smile meant.

It had been a guarded smile, the one he usually gave when he didn’t want to show how hurt he was.


	5. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very proud of this chapter, honestly. :)
> 
> Mostly because I love Little My, and while I hope I've managed her correctly, I still threw her in here.
> 
> Enjoy!! :)

** July **

Things seemed to have changed, after that.

The trip had ended in more disaster than Snufkin had anticipated, and all because he’d let Moomin kiss him under the light of the moon. They’d spent longer on the island as well, and Snufkin spent most of it around Moominmamma and Moominpappa; the latter who was more than pleased to have someone to tell his stories to, and the former who accepted his offers of help with a knowing look and an amused air.

When he wanted to be alone, Snufkin made sure that he’d gone in the opposite direction Snorkmaiden, Little My, and Moomin went- - -just in case.

The ride back to the Valley took longer than the ride up to the island, and Snufkin found it more fitting than he probably should have.

And then Moomin seemed to have promptly disappeared; Snufkin didn’t see him for the rest of June, and that simultaneously made him very concerned and very upset.

“He’s pining,” Little My told him, and Snufkin pulled his hat down so he could roll his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Snufkin! This is your own fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

“You didn’t have to reject him so harshly, you know.” She informed him. “I think he would have been better off if you’d just said something nicer instead of,” she dropped her voice, mimicking his own voice poorly, “‘the sooner we sleep, the sooner morning comes’ or whatever it was that you said.”

“I didn’t…” Snufkin sighed, pulling his hat down more. They sat together on the beach, watching the waves crash on the sand and the sun set slowly. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him, and it made him want to disappear into the air.

He’d never before felt so low as he did right now, now that he’d hurt Moomin so badly that even Little My was judging him for it.

“What are you looking for?” She asked, breaking the silence with her sudden question. His ear twitched and he hummed at her, and for maybe the first time in her life, Little My elaborated with no remarks. “I know you’ve been searching high and low over the Valley. What exactly are you looking for, Snufkin?”

“I don’t know anymore, Little My.” Snufkin answered softly, pulling his hat up so that it sat on his head properly. “A dream, maybe. Something that doesn’t exist at all. Something I only hoped existed.”

“Maybe you’re not looking in the right spot.” Little My said, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, you’ve searched all over the Valley. Maybe the answer you’re looking for is closer to home?” She gave him a meaningful look, and Snufkin blinked back at her for a moment.

“Moomin House!” He said quietly, and she jumped. “You think the answer would be somewhere at Moomin House?”

“Uh, yes?” She said, using the tone she usually reserved for someone particularly slow or exceptionally stupid. “That’s kind of what I was hinting at, you know. Moomin House.” Snufkin stared at her, the wheels in his mind turning slowly, and Little My stared back at him. After a moment, Snufkin found his mind making points that he likely would’ve gotten on his own (eventually).

“Of course!” Snufkin jumped to his feet, startling her badly. “Moomin House, it’s unlocked over winter, right? Because Moominpappa doesn’t trust that Joxter of his- - -”

“What does the Joxter- - -”

“- - -and hopes that leaving his home unlocked with prevent him from breaking in and stealing his food- - -that’s a great point, Little My- - -”

“What are you talking about?”

“- - -and I think it’s the only place in the whole Valley I haven’t checked just yet, but surely Moominmamma would allow me to just have a quick peek around,” he was so focused on his rant that he didn’t notice Little My, trembling where she stood ignored beside him. At least, he didn’t until she jumped up, her little hands knocking his hat off and tangling themselves in his hair. When gravity pulled her down again, Snufkin bent nearly in half to follow her, yelping all the while.

“That’s _not_ what I meant, and _you know that, Snufkin_!” She snapped harshly, not releasing his hair despite his hold on her wrists. “I’m sick and tired of hearing Moomin’s heartsick crying and lovelorn sighs. He’s _still fucking staring longingly at your goddamned campsite_ \- - -”

“Little My, _language_!” Snufkin squeaked out in pain, trying to follow the pull of her hands so that she didn’t rip two bald spots into his head. She ignored him.

“- - -and I’m sick and tired of you _moping around_ like someone kicked Teety-Woo and busted his wing.” Snufkin glanced up at her, but Little My was too furious to notice that the crease between her eyes was from pain instead of anger. In fact, she was so angry that Snufkin was seeing, quite for the first time, the magic bending to _her_ will rather than the other way around. “I’m demanding you apologize to Moomin, now if you can, and put this whole mess behind the both of you!”

“You can’t just demand things like that, Little My, and- - -”

“As your older sister, I am demanding you apologize to Moomin _right this instant_!” She cut him off again, because she seemed to be doing that a lot right at this point in time, and Snufkin found himself facing the very real fear of Little My dragging him by his hair up to Moomin House.

“I’ll do it tomorrow!” He yelped out, just as Little My tried to make good on her silent threat, and she glared at him suspiciously. She didn’t let go of his hair, either, and Snufkin threw his mind around for a proper excuse that would be up to Little My’s standards. “I’ll do it tomorrow, I just-I just need- - -”

His eyes landed on a patch of dandelions and he seized his excuse with both hands.

“I need to get the proper flowers for him!” She stopped, and he hurried on before she could say anything. “Everyone knows a proper apology needs flowers, and it can’t be just any old flowers, of course. Moomin definitely deserves the best flowers, so I’ll get them tomorrow morning and I’ll come by in the afternoon to apologize to him.”

“Swear on it.” Little My said, her voice dangerously low, and Snufkin felt shivers run down his spine in little waves. He’d never been so terrified of such a small creature before in his entire life.

“I swear it.” He said solemnly. She squinted at him for a moment longer, and then she released his hair. He stood up straight with a sigh, wincing as his back cracked awkwardly and his head throbbed. “Was that really necessary, Little My?”

“It was either you or Moomin,” Little My informed him shortly, and he glared down at her. “Moominmamma would catch me if I did it to Moomin, and I don’t plan on getting in trouble. You won’t tell on me, though.”

“How are you so certain?” Snufkin asked her, and she shrugged.

“If you’re not there tomorrow at noon,” she told him, “then I’ll come hunt you down, Snufkin. You’d better not go back on your promise.”

XXXX

Snufkin took a deep breath, feeling his stomach turn with nerves. He’d woken up before sunrise, making his way to the fields on the outskirts of town. The flowers were prettier there, and it was much more likely for him to be forgiven if he got something for Moomin the little troll hadn’t had much opportunity to get.

Little My was sitting on the porch, watching him walk up the pathway to the door of Moomin House. She looked overly pleased with herself, and Snufkin resisted the urge to bare his teeth at her. As it was, his tail was lashing uneasily under his cloak; he was lucky that it was heavy enough to hide the movement, but the cloak did nothing to hide the trembling of his hands. Neither did the flowers, to be honest. They shook with his hands, showcasing his feelings to the world.

“Little My.” He said lowly as he walked past her lounging on the rail.

“Snufkin.” She acknowledged. Jumping from the rail with ease, she took off down the pathway on her own. Snufkin stopped to watch her go, feeling irritated that she didn’t trust him to keep his word; the fact that she didn’t even look back meant she’d only been there to make sure he showed up.

Still, he couldn’t say it was unwarranted; there were at least four separate instances where he’d nearly changed his mind, but the low tone of Little My’s voice and the phantom throbbing of his head convinced him to keep to his word.

At any rate, he was here now and she was gone. It was time to get this show on the road, and yet Snufkin found himself unable to make the last three steps to the door. His knees felt like jelly, and he took several steadying breaths to soothe his nerves.

“One step at a time, Snufkin.” He whispered to himself, and forced himself to move forward once. Then another step, and then the last one had him at the door. Sighing heavily, he reached up and knocked, making sure to do it quite loudly so that it was heard on the other side.

It felt like forever before the door opened up, and Snufkin found himself wishing one last time that he was anywhere but here.

“Oh, hello, Snufkin!” Moominmamma said politely, and her eyes twinkled warmly at him. “What brings you here today?”

“Hello, Moominmamma.” Snufkin said. “I was wondering if Moomin was in? I need to talk to him. It’s somewhat of an urgent matter.”

“I see.” Moominmamma sounded pleased, and she eyed the flowers briefly. “Would those be for Moomin as well? They’re lovely.” Snufkin lowered his head just a bit, hiding his blush behind the brim of it. “Unfortunately, Moomin isn’t home at the moment.”

“What?” He cried, snapping his head back up faster than he’d like to admit. His fingers began tingling, just slightly, and he gripped the stems of the flowers just that much more. Moominmamma looked apologetic, at least, though it did him no good because _Moomin wasn’t even there_.

“He woke up early and went out for the day, I think.” Moominmamma said. “I think he said something about being home later tonight, but I’m not sure. I’m sorry, Snufkin.”

“It’s fine.” Snufkin muttered. “I suppose it was a long shot anyway. Here,” and he thrust the flowers out so that Moominmamma took them in her own hands, “tell Moomin these were for him. And that I’m sorry.”

Pulling his hat down over his eyes, Snufkin hopped off of the porch and made his way back to his campsite.

XXXX

“You lied to me.” Snufkin groaned, dropping his head down to the ground.

“Little My, please.” He said, just loud enough for her to hear. “Not now.”

“Yes, now.” She kicked his foot again, and he turned onto his side. Having gotten his attention, Little My crossed her arms and glared down at him. Snufkin was reminded, none too gently, of how willing she was to fight him. “You didn’t talk to Moomin at all. You lied to me.”

“I didn’t promise to talk to him!” Snufkin said, aghast. “I promised to show up at his house with flowers around noon. I did. You saw me there, Little My, you practically escorted me to the door!”

“Yes. And Moomin was supposed to answer so you guys could clear the air or whatever.” She snapped. “So. What. _Happened_?”

“He wasn’t there, Little My.” Her arms dropped, and she blinked at him. She looked lost and confused, and Snufkin found himself feeling quite the same way. “Moominmamma answered the door and said that Moomin had gone out.”

“That’s impossible!” Little My said hotly. “I sat outside that porch all day! He never came out at all!” Snufkin shot her a look, and comprehension dawned on her face after only a brief moment; she’d forgotten about the ladder that dropped down from Moomin’s window, on the other side of the house. Fury took over. “That little sneak! I’m gonna kill him!”

“No, you won’t.” Snufkin said calmly.

“I will, just you watch!” She seethed. “I’m gonna kill him and chop him up into little bits and serve him in a pie!”

“A pie?” Snufkin would never admit that she’s making him feel better, but she is. His body is feeling a lot more solid than it was yesterday, and though he’s still a bit upset that Moomin is going through so much to avoid him, he’s feeling infinitely better knowing that Little My is on his side. “Careful, you don’t want to have to deal too much with the police, Little My.”

“Damn the police!” She snapped, right as the policeman walked by. He looked startled, and then glared at Little My suspiciously. Snufkin burst into laughter, the sound surprising both him and Little My enough that he stopped for a moment before starting again; he felt like he hadn’t laughed all year, and combined with the idea that it had been _Little My_ to make him do so again meant he couldn’t even bring himself to chastise her for her language.

“Well!” The policeman huffed. “I’ve never! I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on you, Little My!” He kept on walking, throwing them suspicious looks over his shoulder until he rounded the corner. Little My scowled darkly, sitting down beside Snufkin on the ground.

“You could have done something other than laugh.” She informed him acidly, and Snufkin smiled up at her gently.

“You brought that on yourself, Little My.” He reminded her gently. She huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at the sky. Snufkin followed her gaze, and they sat in silence for a moment. The afternoon was almost pleasantly hot, which Snufkin almost couldn’t believe was a thing, but the weather always seemed pleasant in Moomin Valley.

“I don’t appreciate Moomin avoiding you.” She said shortly, quite out of nowhere. Snufkin peered at her out of the corner of his eye, curious despite himself, and she shifted awkwardly. “It’s not just his crying, though that’s really annoying.”

“Is it because he said I’m lonely?” Snufkin asked softly, and he watched as she whipped her head around.

“How do you know he said that?” She demanded. Snufkin smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders, but Little My wouldn’t be deterred. “Were you spying on us?”

“No!” Snufkin said quickly, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I was there first! It’s not my fault you guys didn’t see me!”

“I don’t believe you.” She said, sniffing in her self important way. Snufkin kept his smile easy, shrugging his shoulders at her in a sort of ‘oh, well, what can you do?’ sort of gesture that always seemed to make her mad. True to form, her shoulders tensed up and she bared her teeth at him. “Why didn’t you even say hi?”

“You guys sounded like you were busy,” he said, “and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“We were picking flowers!” She insisted, and Snufkin shrugged for a third time. They sat in another silence for a moment before Little My said, “why don’t you like Snorkmaiden or Sniff?”

“Who said I don’t like them?” Snufkin asked her, and she shot him a look so dry and sarcastic he couldn’t even answer. “It’s not that I don’t like them, Little My. Snorkmaiden and Sniff are fine people, some of the best honestly. It’s just complicated.”

“It’s complicated.” She said shortly. “As complicated as telling me you were my brother?” He winced, but she didn’t let up; that was the thing about Little My. She let absolutely nothing pull her back, nothing except Moominmamma on certain occasions. “I just think you’re trying to avoid all of us except Moomin. It’s not fair, making him choose between you and them.”

“You don’t count yourself amongst them?” Snufkin asked her softly.

“I live with them.” Little My said. “I see Moomin all the time. He’s always moping, Snufkin, he isn’t any fun to be around.” She gave him a look that could not have screamed ‘fix this now’ any more than if she’d said it herself.

“I’m trying my best.” Snufkin informed her. “I can’t apologize to open air, Little My.”

“I think,” she said, “you’re both being stupid and you don’t have time for this.” Snufkin hummed at her, and she stuck her tongue out. “It’s almost August. If you leave while Moomin’s upset with you, how do you know he’d want you to come back next spring?”

“Why would I come back next spring?” Snufkin asked her curiously. He would, of course, come back next spring. That was never in question, not since the day of the comet when they’d met for the first time. Even if _he’d_ been the one to wake up with no memories, he would have traveled to Moomin Valley come springtime.

But there was no way Little My should have known that.

“Don’t you always come in the spring?” She asked him, and she sounded more confused than before. He looked at her impassively, though his mind was racing. That was twice now, in the same conversation even, that Little My had attempted to overcome the magic that stole her memories.

Snufkin felt like he was starting to get close. 

XXXX

Snufkin was walking back to his campsite, trying his best to enjoy his solitude, when he realized it wasn’t as empty as when he left it. With an uneasy feeling, he crouched down and prowled, blinking in the darkness and focusing on where he thought the person was.

He wasn’t entirely sure why someone was just sitting in the dark by his campsite; his first thought was the Joxter, who could see even better than him in the dark and was a rather odd person with odd habits. He discarded that idea nearly the second it popped up, though. He’d just seen his father in May, after all, there was no reason for the Mumrik to be back so soon.

Especially because he hadn’t been given the chance to ask for help.

He _hoped_ it was Moomin, hoped it so fiercely his chest ached with the heaviness of it, and so when he rounded his tent and he saw it _was_ Moomin, he nearly collapsed with relief hidden in the bushes.

“Moomintroll?” He said carefully instead, and he watched as Moomin jumped into the air.

“Snufkin?” Moomin hissed back, and he watched from the bushes as Moomin’s head swiveled around. “Snufkin, is that you? Where are you?”

“I’m here.” Snufkin said slowly, crawling out of the bushes. “This really is a terrible night for this, Moomin, the moon isn’t even out. How long were you planning on sitting here in the dark?”

“I don’t know.” Moomin said bashfully. Snufkin crept forward slowly, not making any noise, and he watched as Moomin continued to look around for him. “Snufkin? Where are you?”

He lit a match and lit the firewood he’d left in the fire pit, and they both cried out in surprise; the flames had flared up so suddenly that neither of them had any time to prepare for it, and so they both needed a moment to clear the spots from their eyes before they could even look at each other.

Snufkin recovered first, blinking at Moomin without moving from his spot in front of the fire place. Moomin blinked at him, eyes watering from the sudden brightness.

It really, really wasn’t just the brightness; Snufkin only had a moment to take in the troll before all of a sudden- - -

“Oh, Snufkin, I’m so sorry!” Moomin said quickly, right before Snufkin could even open his mouth to ask. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or push you away. I’m dreadfully sorry you were put in that position.” He seemed nearly on the verge of tears, his voice thick with emotion, and Snufkin felt more bewildered than ever. “And then I went and disappeared. I honestly wasn’t trying to make you feel trapped, honest!”

“Moomin!” He jumped up, taking Moomin’s hands in his own, and stopped Moomin’s babbling. Moomin stared down at him, eyes still welling up with tears, and Snufkin felt his heart ache for the troll in front of him. Smiling gently, he said, “why don’t I make some coffee, and we can talk this over?”

“Ok.” Moomin nodded. Snufkin mimicked the action, and then promptly stayed where he was with Moomin’s hands in his own. They were soft, and Snufkin found himself appreciating them for a moment before he collected himself. He bent over, flushing just a bit, as he got the coffee set up and ready to go. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when the coffee was ready, that Snufkin sat back and sighed.

“Ok, Moomintroll,” he found himself saying gently. “Let’s talk.”

XXXX

He couldn’t keep avoiding the others forever, and as much fun as he’d been having with Moomin on his own, Snufkin knew it wasn’t fair for him to keep making the troll choose between them and him all the time; if only because, overwhelmingly, the choice always seemed to be Snufkin.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

And now that they’d talked, which involved a lot of tears from Moomin and a lot of awkward stutters from Snufkin and a lot of apologies from both sides, it seemed that Moomin was intent on inviting Snufkin out with them whenever he could. Snufkin _could_ have kept telling Moomin no, but…that involved denying Moomin, and he’d never been particularly good at that, honestly.

Anyway, it lead to him being here: sitting next to Sniff while Moomin and Snorkmaiden splashed around in the water, Little My occasionally breaking the surface pretending to be a shark. Snufkin shifted awkwardly; he’d never really been particularly close to Sniff, as much as he might have missed his company before, mostly because of the latter’s affinity for material objects and schemes, and so the two of them sat in quiet.

“Hey, Snufkin.” Sniff said suddenly, and Snufkin cracked open an eye and glanced at him curiously for a moment.

“Yes, Sniff?” He responded.

“How come you- - -”

“No matter what Little My says,” Snufkin said loudly, knowing he was being rude and not quite caring at the moment, “I _do_ actually like you guys, I just get overwhelmed sometimes.” She’d been bugging him about it, ever since she’d found out that he was nearby the Hemulen’s house when they were. And she seemed to bring it up at the most inopportune times, so that all the attention was focused on him as he tried to push out his reasons.

Sniff gave him a funny look, though, and Snufkin felt his face burn just slightly. He would’ve tried to pass it off as sunburn, but his hat was quite firmly on his head and doing a fine job of covering his face.

“I wasn’t going to ask that.” Sniff said pointedly, and Snufkin felt his face burn even brighter. “I wanted to know how come you like traveling so much.” Snufkin made a quiet ‘oh’ sound that encouraged Sniff to keep talking. Mostly so he didn’t have to stutter in embarrassment. “Moomin always goes on about you going here or there. What’s the point? What’s wrong with a good, stable home?”

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with it.” Snufkin said. He felt a bit defensive, oddly enough, and between that and his lingering embarrassment, he wasn’t sure his voice was coming out as even as he’d like. “A good, stable home is not something to look down on, or be ashamed of!”

“Then why don’t you have one?” Sniff asked. Snufkin sighed, throwing himself backwards on the ground and holding his arms out.

He’d already had this conversation before; with Sniff, with Snork, with Snorkmaiden, with Little My and Moomin. And thought he knew it wasn’t really their fault, he couldn’t help but resent having to have this conversation once more.

“I don’t want one.” Snufkin said shortly. “I don’t need one. I like traveling, because it’s an adventure. It’s fun and exciting to see new places, meet new people, and not be stuck in the same place all the time.” They sat in silence for a moment, Sniff looking somewhat as if he were considering Snufkin’s words, and Snufkin calming down.

After a moment, Snufkin opened his mouth to apologize; he was being really rude when Sniff didn’t really deserve it, and he was beginning to feel bad about it. The sooner he apologized, the sooner he’d feel better.

“Do you think,” Sniff said slowly, before Snufkin could even get a word out, “that Moomin might like traveling like that?”

The question threw Snufkin for a loop, and he paused to look at Sniff. He didn’t look worried, per say, though his hands were twisting around themselves in a worried manner. He was staring out at Moomin and Snorkmaiden and Little My, his brow furrowing just a bit.

“I can’t imagine it, really.” Snufkin said slowly. “Moomin likes his adventures, sure, but…his home is here, in the Valley. He has family here, in the Valley. Why would he ever need to leave?”

“I don’t know.” Sniff said softly. “I know he’s waking during winter, though. He’s having a hard time hibernating, he told me.”

“I thought he slept through the winter?” Snufkin said. Sniff shrugged, wiping his nose.

“Yea, but this is the first time he’s slept through one in a while, I think.” Sniff said. “I think he wants to go traveling, having an adventure like that. It’d be good for him, probably.”

“I can’t imagine Moomin leaving the Valley.” Snufkin repeated quietly.

He couldn’t either; Moomin was as much part of the Valley as the Valley was him. If he wasn’t here, the whole Valley would lose its call, the siren song that pulled Snufkin to it every year. What reason would he have to visit, if Moomin wasn’t here?

“I think he’d leave it soon.” Sniff said decisively. “He’s starting to get that look to him, you know?” Snufkin shot him a confused look, and Sniff shrugged. “It’s hard to explain, I guess. He looks out to the trees more, kind of silently contemplating and far away. And he’s been getting more and more anxious lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if one winter, he just decided against hibernating and just left.”

“Where would he even go?” Snufkin asked, feeling a ball of dread grow in his chest. “Does he even know anyone outside of the Valley?”

“He knows you.” Sniff said easily. “You, and…someone else. I can’t quite recall, huh.” He looked confused, and Snufkin squinted at him from under his hat. Sniff didn’t look in pain, like Snorkmaiden or Little My did sometimes, and he didn’t freeze like Moomin had the habit. “I can’t remember them. Well, there’s someone else out there, at any rate. Two friends out in the world can’t be all bad, huh?”

“I suppose not.” Snufkin said slowly. He sat up again, pulling his feet under his cloak to hide them; Sniff was trying his best, but Snufkin could still feel the tingling under his cloak that meant his feet were vanishing slowly. “Better than nothing.”

“Maybe he’ll go on an adventure and bring me back some treasure!” Sniff said brightly, and Snufkin forced a smile to keep him talking.

The tingling spread up his legs, no longer content to hover at his feet.


	6. August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt odd to write, honestly. It felt like such a transition chapter!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!!

** August **

Snufkin huddled in the corner of his tent, keeping himself low to the ground and absolutely silent. His tail was flicking lazily in the air, slowly and without brushing against anything around him; he felt quite like a cat, ready and waiting for the right moment to pounce on some poor unsuspecting mouse, even if that wasn’t really what he was trying to do now.

Actually, he wasn’t entirely sure _what_ , exactly, he was trying to do. It felt like he was cornered, backed into a space without any other defense but his little fangs and little claws, yet his tail kept telling a different story; playful and intent, it gave out the illusion of a predator at ease.

Outside, Moomin called again.

“Snufkin? Are you home?” Snufkin hunkered down a bit more, biting his lip to keep from responding.

“Obviously he isn’t, Moomin.” Little My sounded beyond irritated. “We should just go already, Snorkmaiden and Sniff are waiting for us.”

“I just wanted to see if Snufkin wanted- - -”

“Well, he doesn’t!” Little My sighed heavily. “I know you wanted him to come. But he’s been ignoring us or gone for the past three days. Clearly we’ve bored him. Let’s just go, before Snorkmaiden and Sniff decide they don’t want to wait for us anymore.”

“I just wanted to see him before he left!” Moomin told her, and Snufkin could practically hear the eye roll in Little My’s voice.

“He’s either already left or he’s just hiding.” She said. “Either way, it’s clear he doesn’t want to be around anyone right now. Let’s just leave him alone.”

“But…” Moomin sighed, but he didn’t argue with Little My anymore. Snufkin kept still, watching as they walked away from his tent. His ears twitched on his head, trying to see if they were hiding somewhere nearby to trick him, but he couldn’t hear anything aside from the wind blowing and the gentle rushing of the stream by his tent.

It was nice of Moomin to consider the possibility that Snufkin would be leaving soon, he thought as he strained to hear anything besides nature. Usually, around this time, Snufkin made a quick trip on his own, just a week or so, until the overwhelming feeling of the Valley and its repetition smothered him; another gentle reminder that Snufkin _desperately_ wanted his Moomin back.

He’d finished searching the Valley. The only place left was Moomin House itself, and Snufkin had no idea how to go about it without giving away anything: the spell, his looming invisibility, the fact that Moomin not being home would make his search significantly easier. Snufkin felt horrible for even thinking it, but he wasn’t slow: he could feel Moomin watching him since they made up, and he could tell there was something behind the gaze he didn’t want to think about.

It was taxing, making sure that if he hung out with everyone he wasn’t left alone with a Moomin at all; Little My and Snorkmaiden have already tried, in their own way and on several occasions, to get the two boys alone somehow. Snufkin always managed to find a way around it, but his interactions with the group suffered as a result. He couldn’t bring himself to hang around with them when he knew that, most of the time, they’d be plotting behind his back.

And since he couldn’t hang out with the group anymore, he was becoming lighter and lighter each day. It was blindingly obvious now, where it had only been hinted at before, and Snufkin wasn’t about to go around explaining over and over and _over_ again what was happening. He’d just have to figure it out on his own.

Sighing softly, it occurred to him that it would be easiest to search Moomin House with Moomin, and the thought of it made Snufkin hide his face in his blankets. He loved Moomin dearly, he did, but this whole situation would upset him and Snufkin so hated to see Moomin upset. Especially because Snufkin turning invisible would mean, to Moomin, that he was being horribly mistreated like Ninny had been, so long ago. It would be worse, though, because Moomin hadn’t really known Ninny before she came to live with the Moomins, and he _knew_ Snufkin. His heart would just break for Snufkin, and Snufkin had no intention to do such a thing to Moomin.

He was likely doing so now, but Snufkin was able to reason it away with some excuse or another; it seemed like the only thing this blasted curse was good for was to give him a reasonable excuse.

If everything was put right again- - -or, no, not _if_ , Snufkin didn’t think he could take _if_ \- - -when everything was put right again, he would owe Moomin the biggest apology. Moomin, and Snorkmaiden, and Little My and Sniff, all of the friends he felt he was abandoning for something greater. Or, not greater or even more important, but more…maybe distracting was the word for it.

Anyway.

Snufkin pushed himself up, rubbing his face with hands paler than he was used to, and a wide yawn splitting his face. He needed to get up and get food, and make a plan for getting into Moomin House. It would be tricky, he thought, and again considered the idea of having Moomin help him search. Surely Moomin, even if he didn’t know the whole Valley, surely he knew his own home well enough to notice anything out of place. It would probably be beneficial to have help from Moomin, but Snufkin couldn’t really ask for help looking like he did now without Moomin worrying.

His eyes widened as the idea came to him, and he scrambled around his tent to find a piece of paper and a pencil. It took him several minutes, but he was victorious; he dug them out from under his blankets and spread them gently on the ground, bending over the paper and inviting Moomin to a day spent together in a couple of days. Feeling a tad guilty as he did so, Snufkin hinted at lunch and tea together before spending the day hanging out, just the two of them.

He ended up re-writing the note several times, but by the fourth re-write, it was as perfect as Snufkin would be able to get it. He folded the note delicately, and threw on his cloak and his hat; he needed to get food, and drop the note in Moomin’s mailbox. Snufkin clutched the letter to his chest, glancing down at his hands (so much paler than he ever remembered them being, and Snufkin found his lips pressing together in displeasure at the sight of them) and hoping for the best, namely that he’d be more solid by the time the plans to hang out came about.

With a quiet sigh, Snufkin left his tent and walked up to Moomin House, so that he could leave his note in the mailbox.

XXXX

“Oh, hello Snufkin, dear!” Moominmamma said, and Snufkin found himself smiling at her with an odd quirk to his lips. He was twisting the hem of his cloak in his paws, something he noticed her eyes dart down to; he was beyond grateful when she decided not to say anything about it. “Moomin’s just upstairs, now, getting ready. I think I heard something about plans you boys had?”

“That’s right, Moominmamma.” Snufkin said carefully. He ignored Little My, who was sitting on the sofa and staring at him over Moominmamma’s shoulder. “Unfortunately, something appears to have come up, and I can’t actually hang out with Moomin today. I’m awfully sorry.”

“Oh, no!” Moominmamma put her hand to her face, looking worried. “Is it serious? Your mother? The kids? Mym?”

“Oh, no, they’re fine.” Snufkin offered hurriedly. “It is rather serious, I suppose, but…” he stopped, his mouth twisting again when he couldn’t figure it the words he wanted to use. He was never particularly good with words, and it had never really bothered him before the moments when he needed them.

Moments like now, coincidentally.

“Take your time, dear.” Moominmamma said gently, putting a careful hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t immediately shrug it off, she added a bit more pressure to it. Not enough to make him uncomfortable, but just enough to ground him a little. “Now then. What’s going on, Snufkin?”

“It’s hard to explain, Moominmamma.” He told her. “And I don’t have the words to mean what I say or say what I mean without giving something terrible away.” He leaned forward a bit as if letting her in on a secret, lowering his voice just a tad. “I can’t give away the terrible thing, you know, and that puts me in quite the predicament.”

“Does it have anything to do with your invisibility?” Moominmamma asked, and Snufkin stared up at her with wide, likely terrified eyes. She gave him a gentle smile, one that was probably meant to be encouraging, but Snufkin found himself feeling trapped.

He took a shaky breath and took a deliberate step back, and Moominmamma let him go. His hands were trembling, just a little, and he tightened his hold on his cloak.

“No, I’m not invisible.” He told her pointedly. “You greeted me at the door yourself, Moominmamma.”

“That I did,” she said agreeably, “but you’ve become lighter, Snufkin. I’m worried about you, is all.”

Oh, all these Moomins! Snufkin was sure that their abilities to open their hearts to everyone and _care_ about everyone was making things worse for him. If it was just Moomin, it probably wouldn’t be so bad, but the whole family was just the same! They cared too much, and too deeply, and to be forgotten by them the way Snufkin was right now…

“I think you’re imagining things, Moominmamma.” Snufkin said as lightly as he was able, and he took another step back off of the porch. “Anyway, I’ve really got to get going now. If you would be so kind as to let Moomin know I can’t hang out today, I’d greatly appreciate it, Moominmamma.”

“Now, wait just a moment!” Moominmamma said, but Snufkin was far too small and far too fast for her; he waved again over his shoulder and jumped off of the porch, running as quickly as he could away from Moomin House. He’d changed his mind again, and hoped that Moominmamma would pass his message along to Moomin. He hoped that Moomin would leave the house anyway, and take Little My with him, because the House would be much easier to search through with only Moominmamma and Moominpappa to have to deal with.

He had to move quickly; Time was more important now than ever.

XXXX

He tumbled silently into Little My’s room on the first floor, ears twitching just a bit as he tried to see if anyone noticed his entrance.

Sighing slightly, Snufkin glanced around the room, debating on whether or not it was the best place to start. On the one hand, he was already here, and Little My’s room was, well, little. It wouldn’t really take too long to search through it, and then he could move on to the rest of the house.

On the other hand, t wasn’t likely that the curse started in _Little My’s_ room, of all places. And Little My certainly wouldn’t be happy to hear that her younger brother dug around in her room for anything, even if it was potentially to end a curse. Snufkin felt his mouth twist to the side as he gave it a few more seconds of thought, glancing around the room idly.

Well, he decided, he just would make sure that he never told Little My a thing about searching her room. Decision made, Snufkin started by the window, making his way in a circle so that he looked through everything. Little My had little knickknacks and small piles of red dresses, though her room was still somewhat tidy, and though Snufkin made sure to check under her bed, he didn’t find anything.

Finding himself back at the window where he’d started, Snufkin sighed a second time and put his hands on his hips. Little My’s room was, essentially, clean, but he was procrastinating going out in the house; Moominmamma was out there, and Moominpappa, and Snufkin wasn’t quite sure how to complete his search fully with the both of them there.

Just as he was wondering how to go about it, he heard the sound of footsteps clattering down the stairs.

“Are you quite ready, Mamma?”

“Oh, yes, Pappa.” Moominmamma’s voice came more from downstairs. “Just grabbing the basket. You’ve got the blanket, dear?”

“That I do! Shall we be off then?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll just…” Snufkin heard as Moominmamma’s voice trailed off, and as Moominpappa followed her down the stairs. Snufkin, slightly ducked down, glanced out the window at the couple as they made their way down the path, oblivious to him still in the house.

Feeling settled now that he knew he was alone, Snufkin crept out of Little My’s room, shutting the door gently behind him. Steadily, he made his way around the first floor, searching everywhere he could as quickly as possible. Kitchen, living room, dining room, sitting room, all sparsely furnished and with few hiding spots. When his search turned up empty, he shrugged somewhat easily and made his way up to the second story.

There was a brief hesitation outside the study- - -it was Moominpappa’s hideaway, in a way, his own sanctuary, and nobody could go in unless he said so when he was here, and he was most decidedly _not here_ right at _this_ particular moment- - -but Snufkin resolved to not tell him, same as Little My. Still, he felt really guilty about even putting his hand on the doorknob, and so the study was the room he searched quickest through. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he left it, closing the door behind him as gently as he’d closed Little My’s.

The two guest bedrooms on the second floor were both empty and clean, nothing disturbed except some dust. Snufkin stood in the doorways of both of them for a moment, just staring at the way dust particles moved through the light; then he shook himself firmly, darting into them and searching them quickly. They yielded nothing, of course they did, but Snufkin couldn’t help the mounting frustration anyway. If he didn’t have so much respect for the Moomins, current activity withstanding, he’d kick the door frames on the way out of the rooms.

He doesn’t, of course.

He is in and out of Moominmamma and Moominpappa’s room as quickly as possible, searching quickly through their closet and bathroom and under their bed. It felt odd, going into their room while no one was home, and Snufkin was on edge until the door shut firmly behind him. Leaning against it to catch his breath, he resolved not to tell Moominmamma that he’d been in her room at all.

The laundry room on the third floor and a third guest bedroom yield nothing as well, and Snufkin is left looking at the closed door of Moomin’s room.

All of a sudden, Snufkin found himself unable to move. Moomin’s door was closed, indistinguishable from the door to the laundry room, or Moominpappa’s study, or Little My’s room.

It would be fine, Snufkin told himself, Moomin let Snufkin in his room all the time, and wouldn’t mind his friend being in there now. He would be excited, showing off all of the little knickknacks that he’d picked up since the last time Snufkin had come over, and helping him…

Well. Snufkin threw his shoulders back, marching quietly but determinedly towards Moomin’s room. The sooner he searched, the sooner he’d have his answer, and he could be out of Moomin House before anyone knew he’d been there.

He twisted the little knob in his hand and pushed the door open gently, letting it swing and stop short of the wall. Taking a deep breath, Snufkin crosses the threshold of the door and began his search, skin crawling and tail flicking uneasily under his cloak.

There was a chair in the corner of the room, with a little doll on it. The table next, with some books in the corner and a teacup. Snufkin looked through the books quickly, patted the doll’s head, and continued onwards.

Moomin’s desk had some more books, and some loose leaf papers spread around its surface. Snufkin carefully didn’t read them, shuffling through them instead and then abandoning the desk. His bookshelf was treated in much the same manner, and then Snufkin forced himself to take a moment to breathe.

Moomin’s bed was where it usually was, situated firmly against the wall. Snufkin only needed to look under the bed, but this was making him uncertain. Moomin actually slept here, and Snufkin couldn’t find himself to keep something like that from Moomin like he had the rest of the family.

He’d just taken a step forward, forcing himself to start so that way he could just get it over with, when the door burst open downstairs.

“Well, _I_ think that Sniff and Snorkmaiden would be happier if you would just stop, Moomin!” Little My said, loudly enough that Snufkin heard her all the way upstairs. His heart stopped in his throat, and Snufkin scrambled for the window as quietly as possible.

Safely making it down the ladder, Snufkin made a bee-line towards his tent, practically diving into it and huddling in the corner with his heart restarting in his ears. He knew it wasn’t likely that they heard him, or followed him, but Snufkin didn’t move until long after his heart slowed down.

XXXX

“You’ve become lighter, son.” Snufkin tilted head head back, staring right into bright blue eyes hidden under the shade of a hat. He blinked at his father, not processing the words right away before holding his own hands up.

They did look lighter, and Snufkin didn’t even argue against him like he had Moominmamma.

“It would appear so.” Snufkin said.

“You need to leave Moomin Valley.”

“I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.” Snufkin told him. The Joxter stared at him, his tail flicking slowly from side to side. Snufkin licked his lips, wondering how to put what he thought into words. “What if I leave and Moomin forgets me again?”

“He’s forgotten you _now_ , and you’re turning invisible.” The Joxter pointed out. Snufkin scowled, because he’d been thinking more about how to fix the Valley’s memory issue and he’d forgotten exactly how easily the Joxter could poke at still bleeding wounds. “The whole Valley forgot you. It would be in your best interest to be around people who remember you, at least for a while. Just enough so that you stop disappearing.”

“I don’t have anywhere like that,” Snufkin told him softly. “Just here. Just Moomin Valley, and Moomin.”

“It’s not doing you any favors.” The Joxter said. “Maybe if you went and stayed with your mother- - -”

“Do you think that’ll help me?” Snufkin laughed, and the Joxter narrowed his eyes this time. “I’ve been invisible before, you know. When I was very little. That’s why I managed to start traveling so young. Mymblemamma barely remembers half of her children on a good day.”

“She isn’t that bad a mother.” The Joxter said defensively.

“No, but she is that busy of one.” Snufkin retorted. “She has what, nearly twenty kids now? Thirty? I’ll go invisible faster under her care than anywhere at all.” The Joxter sighed, unable to return the argument, and Snufkin adjusted his hat. “Besides, it’s still summer. Not even fall yet. I can’t leave.”

“It’s August.” The Joxter said. “Nearly fall. Who’s to stop you from leaving the Valley early this year? No one would notice. And it’s likely no one will remember.”

“I’ll know.” Snufkin shot back. “And I’ll remember. And before you say it,” because the Joxter had opened his mouth again, “I would care. I’ve promised Moomin I won’t leave until the first day of winter, and I’ll keep to that promise.”

The Joxter blinked twice at him, slowly and deliberately, and Snufkin found himself automatically returning the sentiment before he could think better of it. The Joxter looked pleased with himself, and Snufkin found his body feeling the tiniest bit heavier; not likely noticeable at all to anyone else, but plenty noticeable to himself.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t ya?” The Joxter asked.

“Learned it from the best.” Snufkin offered. His father threw his head back and laughed heartily, knocking Snufkin’s hat aside in order to ruffle his hair. Snufkin allowed it on the basis that his father would likely do worse, if given the option.

They sat in silence for a moment before the Joxter got up, stretching and sighing. Snufkin watched him impassively, content to let the old man do as he pleased.

“I think,” the Joxter said, “it’s time I did some asking around.”

XXXX

Snufkin blinked, halfway out of his tent and stunned into motionlessness. Moomin stared down at him, blue eyes wide and horrified and slowly filling with tears the longer he stared at him. Snufkin felt his mind racing, just a bit, as he tried to figure out what to say to make things better, somehow, when- - -

“Oh, _Snufkin_!” That was the quietest he’d ever heard Moomin wail, and it was unnerving in ways he couldn’t begin to describe. “What _happened_?”

“It’s nothing, Moomin,” he tried, but the little troll wasn’t listening.

“This is terrible!” Moomin returned, and he plopped down in front of Snufkin. His eyes were still watery and upset, but his voice turned determined when he spoke again. “What happened, Snufkin? Who was it? Do I need to kill someone?”  
“Moomin!” Snufkin laughed a bit, and glanced down at his hands. They didn’t become more visible, but they felt different somehow; heavier, in a way, and Snufkin found himself sighing softly. “No, it’s nothing so serious, Moomintroll. Nothing to worry yourself over.”

“But you’re turning invisible!” Moomin cried. “That’s not nothing, Snufkin! That’s really serious. It was so hard for poor Ninny, when she was invisible, and that was just because her aunt was a mean old hag. But this,” he reached out and touched the side of Snufkin’s face with a gentle touch, “I don’t know how we would fix this. What would be enough to turn you invisible?”

“I don’t know, Moomintroll.” Snufkin said gently. He probably should’ve felt worse about lying, but he really wasn’t; he’d been flirting with invisibility all summer, and though he’d realized that it was in relation to his friends forgetting him, he wasn’t sure why that was the trigger for it.

It wasn’t like they were doing it maliciously, and Snufkin was well aware of that, and yet here he was: fainter than ever before, with Moomin staring at him as if his heart were breaking.

“Well, I won’t have it.” Moomin said decisively. “It’s not right, and I won’t stand for this. You don’t deserve to be invisible, Snufkin. I’ll help you find whoever is responsible for this.”

“I believe you, Moomin.” Snufkin pulled himself into a standing position, smiling awkwardly as he did so. His knees and palms ached a bit from his held position on the ground, though he dusted them both off without even a wince. Moomin watched his movements almost hungrily, eyes roving from the top of Snufkin’s hat to the empty space where his boots should be.

“Were you planning on doing some fishing?” Moomin asked gently, in an effort to change the subject. “I know it’s very early. Prime fishing hours, right?” Snufkin hummed, tilting his head back and staring up at the sky.

He’d been startled by Moomin, solely because of the time it was now; stars still dotted the sky, and the sun was not even ready to begin rising over the horizon. The sky itself was still so dark a blue it was nearly black, and when Snufkin tilted his head to look at Moomin, the troll looked just the tiniest bit sheepish.

“It’s still a tad too early for fishing.” Snufkin said gently, and Moomin flushed even darker. “But why don’t we sit on the bridge anyway.” It wasn’t really a question, and by the way Moomin seemed to perk up, he knew it too. He grabbed his fishing gear anyway, bringing it with him as they walked. Together they made their way to the wooden bridge, sitting down and dangling their legs off the side.

The water made a soothing noise as it ran beneath their feet, and Snufkin took a deep breath that was all crisp night air mixed with the smell of running water as he set his things to the side. Moomin mimicked him, all the way up laying down across the length of the bridge and staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Snufkin?”

“Yes, Moomintroll?”

“Are you avoiding us?” Moomin asked, and Snufkin found his lips pressing together gently. He stared up at the stars in determination, seeing them without really seeing them as his mind raced for an answer. “I was wondering. Because you aren’t home much, anymore, and you never seem to want to hang out either.”

“There’s a lot going on with me right now, Moomin.” Snufkin said gently, working his mind on what to say. “Nothing you can help me with, unfortunately,” he added right as Moomin took a breath, “but a lot nonetheless. I don’t mean to make you feel like your presence isn’t wanted, or appreciated, Moomin. It is. You’re my best friend, and I,” he swallowed heavily, the words on the tip of his tongue, and he just barely changed them at the last second, “I love hanging out with you, Moomin, of course I do.”

“I know that.” Moomin said, but he sounded more relieved than anything else, and Snufkin could practically feel as the troll relaxed against him. “That I’m your best friend, I mean. You’re my best friend too, Snufkin, and that’s why I want to help you. Anyway that I can, just name it, and I’ll do it.”

“I’m aware, Moomintroll,” Snufkin said warmly, and he could hear the smile in his voice. Moomin’s declaration warmed him all the way to his soul, and he thanked the stars again for such a wonderful best friend. “I appreciate it, so much more than you know.”

They lay together for a moment, watching the stars in silence, and then Snufkin shuffled over a bit.

“Hey, Moomin.” He whispered.

“Yea?”

“Look here.” Snufkin reached up towards the sky, pointing a finger and making a pattern in the sky. Moomin watched him intently, waiting until Snufkin nudged his shoulder in order to follow the constellation Snufkin was showing him. They whispered together, Moomin asking questions as Snufkin tried to whisper the stories to him.

When the sun rose, turning the sky from navy blue to a collage of pinks and red and orange, Snufkin went to sit up only to find Moomin holding his hand tightly. He turned his head, giving Moomin a questioning look.

“Snufkin,” Moomin said softly, and his voice was so serious that Snufkin felt his eyes widen just a bit, “please don’t push me away anymore. I know you can take care of yourself, but you’re clearly hurting a lot. I won’t force you to accept help you don’t want, but…” He trailed off slowly, and Snufkin got the feeling that it wasn’t because he ran out of words; rather, it was because he didn’t want to say what he needed to.

“I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep.” Snufkin whispered back. “I am solitary by nature, and I can take care of things on my own, but…” Moomin’s shoulder was tense against his again, and Snufkin nudged it gently. “I’ll do my best to keep you informed where I can, ok? I can promise that. And I can promise that I will try to hang out with you guys a little more, too. Ok?”

“That’s fine.” Moomin said faintly. He let Snufkin sit up this time, peering down into the river as he looked around for fish. Moomin kept laying down, closing his eyes and just basking in the light of the rising sun. He looked beautiful like that, Snufkin thought, and felt himself turning red as he kept glancing to the side at Moomin.

Without his notice, his tail flicked to the right, then to the left where it brushed against Moomin’s. Rather than pull away, his tail wrapped itself around Moomin’s tail, connecting the two boys together. Moomin smiled suddenly, keeping his eyes closed, and Snufkin (who glanced at him right as he smiled) turned even redder than before. Hunching his shoulders in, he forced himself to stop looking at Moomin and focus on his fishing instead.

It was several minutes before he registered what his tail was doing, and though he was embarrassed, Snufkin couldn’t bring himself to untangle it.


	7. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my ass. I planned out every chapter except this one, and it fucked me up.
> 
> I’m sorry this is so late, guys!!

** September **

“Hello, Snufkin.”

“Hello, Snorkmaiden.” Her eyes raked up and down his pale form as she stepped into Moomin’s kitchen, her eyebrow rising on her face the longer she looked. Snufkin shifted minutely, embarrassed by her pointed look, until it felt like she’d lost interest as she turned to Little My instead.

“Why’ve you turned so pale, Snufkin?” Sniff asked, peering down at him curiously. “You’re not sick, are you? It’d be best to let Moominmamma know if you are, she’ll have you better in no time at all!”

“Sniff!” Three voices exclaimed loudly, and he looked from Little My to Snorkmaiden to Moomin and then back in confusion. When they gave him pointed looks, all varying in stages of anger, Sniff whined in the back of his throat and shrugged his shoulders.

“I was just saying!” He defended himself, not knowing when to give up but knowing he’d gone too far. “Moominmamma can help! She’s got her great-grandmother’s book, doesn’t she?”

“Snufkin isn’t sick!” Moomin said, a bit more harshly than he usually spoke. “This isn’t something we can help him with, other than to be kinder to him so he can recover. It’s like Ninny, all over again!”

“But he’s not fully invisible!” Sniff argued back. “Only mostly. Doesn’t that make a difference?”

“I believe,” Snufkin said loudly, and everyone looked at him in surprise. He smiled quite thinly, ignoring how his body felt lighter than it had before. Snorkmaiden made a sort of affronted gasp, and Little My glared daggers at Sniff that made him inch his towards Moomin for protection. “I believe that it would be best to move on from this topic, right? We haven’t really met up to discuss my invisibility, have we?”

“Of course not!” Moomin said loudly, clapping his hands together. “We came to talk about the camping trip we wanted to take in a bit, right?” The confused looks the other three shared made it clear, at least to Snufkin, that this had not been their plan at all; he wondered, briefly, if they’d even _talked_ about going on a camping trip, or if Moomin was making something up so Snufkin wouldn’t feel excluded.

Both options warmed his heart, and he shoved them away pointedly.

“Well, _I_ thought,” Snorkmaiden said primly, “that we had _already discussed_ the details of the camping trip, and that we were going to spend today actually preparing for it.” She gave Moomin A Look, one that had him turning red and flustering for a moment.

“Well, yes,” he said haltingly, “but I thought we’d go over the plan again. Since Snufkin wasn’t actually here the last time we did so, and he’s our friend, and he’s coming with us on the trip.” A thoughtful look crossed Snorkmaiden’s face, as if she hadn’t considered that before, and Snufkin found himself flicking a bit uncertainly. He’d just opened his mouth to say something- - -he wasn’t quite sure what, just yet, but he had to say _something_ to move them along- - -when Snorkmaiden sighed, just lightly.

“You’re right, Moomin,” she said apologetically, glancing at Snufkin again. “I didn’t think about that, I’m sorry Snufkin. All right, then, let’s go over the plans for our trip.”

“I’m hungry!” Little My snapped, the first thing she’d said, and Moomin jumped up like a live wire.

“Lemme check if Mamma has snacks!” He said brightly. “I’m sure she does, somewhere in the kitchen. I’ll be right back!”

“Why doesn’t Snufkin go with you?” Snorkmaiden asked, almost innocently, and Snufkin narrowed his eyes at her in warning. She blinked at him, completely unaffected by his look, and Snufkin was trying to figure out how to politely decline without giving too much away; he didn’t want to hurt Moomin’s feelings, of course, but he hated how clumsily Snorkmaiden kept trying to get them alone.

“I can find the snacks by myself, thank you very much!” Moomin said haughtily, tossing his head back with a dramatic sniff and closing his eyes. “I don’t need help, Snorkmaiden.”

“If you say so, Moomin.” Snorkmaiden shared a look with Little My, who rolled her eyes dramatically and got off the chair again. “I was just trying to save you a trip, you know.”

“Wait, Moomin!” Sniff leaned over the table, yelling after him, “do you know if Moominmamma has any of those biscuits from the other day left over?”

“She doesn’t,” Little My shot back, “but there are cookies she made this morning for everyone. She wouldn’t even let me sneak some right after she finished baking them.”

“You _know_ why, Little My!” Moomin’s voice rang out reproachfully as he walked back to the table with the cookies. “Mamma said you couldn’t have them earlier because you got into a fight with Mym when she came over.”

“Why did you fight with Mym?” Snufkin asked, eyes wide. Little My flushed, her lip jutting out stubbornly. He glanced at Snorkmaiden, who shrugged lightly, then at Sniff, who was busy trying to peer around the kitchen door to see what else Moomin was grabbing; Moomin was otherwise occupied, and so with the lack of help from his friends, Snufkin turned back to Little My. “Why were you fighting with Mym?”

“That’s for me to know,” Little My hissed, “and you to _never_ find out, little brother.” Snufkin opened his mouth to argue the point, but her mouth pulled back into a snarl. “ _Drop it_ , Snufkin, what goes on between me and my sister is none of your concern.”

“You’re both my sisters,” Snufkin hissed back, “and so you’ll find it actually does concern me, thank you very much. Mym has done nothing to deserve- - -”

“Exactly!” Little My slammed her hands down on the table, making everyone jump and stare at her in surprise. Red was dusting her face, not from embarrassment, Snufkin noted, but from fury. “Look at you! I know you’ve been spending more time with her and Too-Ticky than usual, ow, but they both missed this! You’re barely visible!”

“Little My!” Moomin snapped at her, and she bared her teeth at him.

“All she needed to do was pay attention!” Little My pushed her chair back, stomping her tiny feet on the ground as she left. “I’m going to my room! I don’t want to talk to any of you for the rest of the day!”

“Little My- - -” Snufkin started, but she vanished around the corner; moments later, her door slammed shut.

“Please excuse her.” Moomin said in a small voice. Snufkin twisted to look up at him, though Moomin was staring out the door with a frown. “She’s been unhappy ever since you started avoiding us again, and she’s not taking your invisibility well.”

“I noticed.” Snufkin said dryly, and Moomin laughed as he sat down at the table. Snufkin glanced at the door again. “Should I go talk to her?”

“Better not.” Snorkmaiden said gently. “We should let her calm down first. Get herself situated and sorted.” Snufkin hummed in agreement, and let the stilted conversation flow over him.

He pocketed two cookies, intending them both for Little My.

XXXX

Moomin was determined to make sure Snufkin held true to his promise, and Snufkin found himself wondering how the little troll even had the _time_.

He woke up early, with Snufkin, to see how he felt for the day. If Snufkin was in a mood, he’d sit quietly with him as he fished and then spent the day with their friends; Snufkin was left alone to sulk or overthink things on his own, even if Little My tended to throw dirty looks at him for doing so. If Snufkin was fine, and fine only to Moomin’s satisfaction it felt like, then he’d drag Snufkin along with whatever adventure they’d planned for the day.

And Snufkin found himself slipping seamlessly back into his usual spot amongst his friends, invisibility aside. He had his good days and bad days, of course, the days where he’d almost be back to his normal color and the days where he’d fade away so much Moomin would put flower crowns around his neck so they wouldn’t lose him, but they all managed together somehow. Sniff seemed to be more cautious about what to say to Snufkin, and Little My had stopped roping Snorkmaiden to her schemes concerning Moomin and Snufkin.

It frustrated Moomin, Snufkin thought, that there was no rhyme or reason to his invisibility. He’d spent a week with Snufkin, strolling almost casually through the Valley and giving everyone a suspicious glare; it had taken Snufkin all of two minutes to realize that Moomin was not very subtly hunting for the person he thought was responsible for his invisibility.

It was sweet, and warmed Snufkin’s heart, no matter that he’d already told Moomin that there wasn’t anybody who caused it. Moomin had let Snufkin do as he pleased for the better part of the year, even with his apparent need to relearn who Snufkin was all over again, and Snufkin felt guilty over that; he knew he asked a lot of Moomin when he asked him to stay away, and so he let Moomin search until his heart was contented that it was the not the fault of anyone in the Valley.

He’d found himself frantically trying to sidetrack him when it came to _leaving_ the Valley though; Sniff’s words from August came, unheeded, and Snufkin had a hard time convincing Moomin to stay and not go off on a rampage.

But Snufkin found himself getting off track for the current moment, which was this: he’d woken up early, like usual, to do some fishing for lunch, and found Moomin half asleep and wobbling on his feet. He yawned, widely and loudly, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy smack of his lips and a fond look in his eyes. The sun was still rising behind him, bathing everything in an ethereal glow and turning the sky pink.

“Morning, Snufkin.” He said blearily.

“Enough is enough, Moomintroll.” Snufkin said in response, more sharply than he’d intended to. Moomin blinked down at him, surprised, but Snufkin reached out and pulled Moomin down to his level. Moomin stumbled easily, and Snufkin dragged the troll into his tent and zipped it up quickly.

“What…?” Moomin said blearily, and Snufkin quickly pushed him into the corner where his blankets were bunched up. Heat started rising in his cheeks as his actions caught up with him, and Snufkin faltered for only a second before diving forward; he’d already begun, it was best to commit to the action than face the awkwardness that would come if he stopped too soon.

“You’re practically dead on your feet.” Snufkin said irritably, to hide the way he momentarily doubted himself, “and you’ll make yourself sick if you keep this up. You need to sleep, Moomin.”

“Was gonna when I got back home.” Moomin grumbled, but he let himself be manhandled into the bedroll anyway. “Wanted to check on you first.”

“You are not a morning creature like this, Moomin.” Snufkin said, though his voice had gentled as he set about tucking Moomin in. Moomin snuggled down, sighing softly, and Snufkin felt his heart clench in his chest. “You need to sleep, not constantly wake up at the crack of dawn just to check on me.”

“I just wanted…” Moomin yawned widely, and trailed off. Snufkin watched as his mouth closed gently, and realized that Moomin had fallen asleep mid-word. Shaking his head fondly, Snufkin settled down a bit more comfortably and began running his fingers through Moomin’s soft fur.

He almost didn’t deserve Moomin, or his friendship, or whatever affections the little troll still held for him. Snufkin smiled dazedly down at Moomin, not noticing the long blinks he was sending towards Moomin, or the way his body was slowly dropping to lay beside him. His fingers kept a rhythm in Moomin’s fur, and the even, deep breathing of his friend was more soothing than Snufkin had anticipated.

Quite without meaning to, considering he still needed to go fishing for lunch, Snufkin let his eyes slip shut and his fingers still in Moomin’s fur. He barely felt as Moomin shuffled in his sleep, though he was more aware of a heavy weight that settled over his waist; it felt warm and soothing, despite the heaviness of it, and Snufkin slipped fully into sleep before he could stop himself.

XXXX

“It isn’t fair!” Little My said, stomping her feet and storming off into the trees by his tent. Snufkin followed after her easily; she was fast and small, but Snufkin was about the same size as she was, and he was faster. He kept pace easily with her, and watched in bemusement as she grew more frustrated for it. “Go away, Snufkin!”

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.” Snufkin said gently. Little My growled, turning on her heel and jabbing her finger into his chest. It hurt a lot, mostly because Snufkin hadn’t expected her to stop, and so he’d kept going forward until her hand shot out. “What isn’t fair, Little My?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to be bothering?” She snapped, ignoring the way he winced and rubbed at his chest; if she heard what he’d said, she ignored that too, gesturing with her other hand in the direction she though Moomin House was. “And he’s got a trip to plan. Why don’t you go bother him for once, instead of coming after me?”

“I’m sure Moomin has everything under control.” Snufkin said soothingly, and then flushed when Little My raised an eyebrow at him. Flushing and flickering into invisibility, Snufkin mentally reviewed her words and stammered, “he’s not-I meant that…”

“Like I said.” Little My snuffed. “Go bother him instead.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” Snufkin found himself hoping, suddenly, that she didn’t know about the time he searched her room. He’d been sure to be as careful as possible, but what if he’d overlooked something? Little My wasn’t going to be happy, and he knew this, but he never expected for her to take it out on Mym or anyone other than him.

“What does it matter?” Little My asked him. “You’re invisible, and you won’t tell us why?”

“I don’t know why I’m invisible!” Snufkin told her, even as his stomach dropped. Little My scoffed, not believing him, and Snufkin reached out to grab her arm before she ran away again. “I really don’t, Little My, honest. It started a little while ago, and hasn’t seemed to settle since.”

“Does Mym know?” She asked, and her voice was more biting than Snufkin had anticipated. He stopped short, tilting his head to the side, and Little My continued on. “She knew you were our brother before I did. Does she know why you’re invisible? Why won’t she tell us? We want to help!”

“I haven’t seen Mym in months!” Snufkin blurted, and it was Little My who stopped short this time. She blinked up at him, startled, and Snufkin hurried to explain. “I haven’t seen Mym in months, the last time I saw her I was still visible,” mostly, but Little My didn’t have to know that, “and that was before we went sailing. Afterwards…”

“So it was Moomin.” Little My said slowly.

“It was not!” Snufkin snapped at her, quite unintentionally, and he sighed. “No, it wasn’t.” He repeated gently. “Never Moomin. He couldn’t, even if he tried.”

“Yea, you’re right.” Little My said. “Especially not to you. He gets so lovesick about you sometimes it’s ridiculous.”

“He doesn’t get lovesick.” Snufkin said instantly, catching her words this time. It must’ve been too quickly, though; she shot him a look that was equal parts victorious, smug, and slightly disgusted. Snufkin flushed a bit more, and felt his body become a bit more visible. “Anyway, you need to apologize to Mym. She didn’t know I was invisible, or coming close to it, and it’s not her fault I am either. She didn’t deserve it.”

“No, it’s more likely you did.” Little My grumbled. “You like to hide away on your own too much. We can’t help you if you won’t let us.”

Somehow, he knew it was more than just the invisibility. Little My was giving him a look, one similar to the beach debacle and the time she nearly dragged him to Moomin House, and Snufkin found himself uneasy. While everyone else seemed to stop when the pain from the spell started, she seemed to be one of the only ones actively fighting against it when it came up. It was becoming more and more common for the spell to bend to her will, rather than her succumbing to it, and Snufkin wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“You guys can’t always help me with everything.” Snufkin said gently instead, and Little My scoffed. Crossing her arms, she glared at the trees for a moment. “Little My…”

“I’ll apologize the next time I see her.” She snapped, and Snufkin nodded his approval. They said in silence for a moment, and then she added, “and Moomin too, since he was the one who got in the middle of our fight. I might have hit him.”

“You _hit_ Moomin?” Snufkin asked incredulously. Little My hunched in on herself, and Snufkin sighed heavily in irritation. Rubbing at his forehead, Snufkin pressed his lips together in order to prevent himself from yelling at his sister. She already looked guilty, and he was mostly certain that it was because she felt guilty for it to begin with.

She had such a temper, and she tended to overreact to things.

“I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark.” Snufkin said finally. “All of you. It wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”

“No.” Little My said. “It really wasn’t.” She peered up at him, searching his face. “You’re sure there isn’t anyone behind you turning invisible?”

“There really isn’t.” Snufkin confirmed. “I don’t know any more than you do as to why I’m invisible, or at least partially invisible.”

“You’re mostly visible now.” Little My offered, taking his hand in hers to inspect it. “Just very light. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t really how it worked for Ninny. I think she was just invisible, or visible. You look more like you’re fading out.”

“I suppose this is just a special case.” Snufkin said. “Maybe invisibility is different for every person.” Little My gave him a look that said he was stupid; even as he said it, Snufkin knew he was wrong.

He’d been invisible before, of course. When he was very young, right before he started traveling. Mymblemamma hadn’t meant to make him invisible, no well-meaning, truly loving and truly caring mother did, but Snufkin had been so very quiet and so very small; he’d gotten lost and abandoned amongst the rowdiness of his other siblings, and so he’d turned invisible. It had happened all at once, none of this flickering, and it had lasted for nearly two years before he managed to get better all on his own.

“At any rate,” Little My said, brushing her dress off and her hair back. “Moomin will come looking for us soon. We should head back. We have a camping trip to go on.”

XXXX

He was sitting at Mym’s house when he felt it happen; he was trying to answer Too-Ticky’s question about his current invisibility while fending off his distraught older sister when _something_ rushed through him. It made a soft popping noise in his ears, and caused Too-Ticky to stop her line of questioning, and forced Mym to lift her face from where she’d buried it in her hands to hide her tears. They glanced around the house as one, mystified all the way up to Too-Ticky’s muttered curse and Mym’s watery gasp.

Snufkin, who was quickly losing patience with his sister and wanted her to just stop crying already, went to tell her something when she jumped up.

“Oh, _Snufkin_!” She cried, tears welling up again. Snufkin pressed his lips together, huffing irritably through his nose and glancing at Too-Ticky for help. Too-Ticky was staring at him oddly, her hands dropping down from where they’d been doing the cooking.

“Well,” she said at last, “that’s certainly something, then, ain’t it?”

“What is?” Snufkin asked, glancing down at himself finally only to stop short.

He’d become visible again, fully, from his hands and arms down to his boots. He’d forgotten, almost, what a deep and bright green his cloak was supposed to be, and how sharply black his boots were. His body felt heavier now than it had been in quite some time, fully there and visible to anyone and everyone.

“What _happened_?” Snufkin asked incredulously, because sometimes he wasn’t very smart, and didn’t know not to question a good thing. Mym let out a little sob, her eyes glittering with joy, and even Too-Ticky was fighting back her own smile. “I don’t understand, what…how?”

“Something had to give way eventually.” Too-Ticky said gently. “You were fluttering too long between invisible and not. Sooner or later, your body was going to have to pick a side.” She’d returned to cooking, turning back often as if she was keeping an eye on Snufkin’s color. “I’m glad you’re better, Snufkin. Invisibility’s one of those inflictions that mean the ones who love you all suffer with you, and can’t do a thing to help.”

“They can try, though!” Snufkin scrambled down to the ground, sudden full of more energy than he could remember having in the last couple of months. His mind was bursting with realizations, and he turned on his heel and raced out the door without answering Mym’s startled cry.

He’d feel bad for that, later on. And he’d come back and apologize, and have dinner with Mym and Too-Ticky, and he’d even let Mym fuss over him without getting annoyed. She was his big sister, after all, and he did love her so, in his own ways. It wasn’t her fault their way of loving was so different, after all.

But now he was too full of energy, and though he’d come to Mym and Too-Ticky for lunch, Snufkin found he couldn’t bear to be away from Moomin for one second longer than he needed to be right now.

XXXX

“Snufkin!” Moomin cried out, and Snufkin lifted a hand to wave at him; Little My intercepted them both, barreling down towards Snufkin with a dark look on her face. Snufkin frowned down at her- - -he really thought they’d sorted her attitude out a week ago, when he’d followed her into the forest, but she looked furious again and he didn’t know why.

“Hello, Little My.” He tried, when she came to a short stop right in front of him. She was so close she had to crane her head back just the tiniest bit, but his height didn’t feel like any sort of advantage like it usually would have. Little My looked unbearably angry, and more hurt than he’d anticipated.

“Snufkin.” She said lowly, still glaring daggers at him. He smiled down at her, but she didn’t seem to want to explain herself now. Instead, she marched right past him, leading the way and making Snorkmaiden hurry to catch up with her; she waved happily at Snufkin as she passed, calling out to Little My to wait up.

“What was that about?” Snufkin asked Moomin when the troll came up to him.

“I don’t even know.” Moomin said. He was looking after Little My, bewildered and confused. “She’s been like that this whole morning. Started yesterday, I think.” Yesterday, Snufkin had been at Mym’s house. “Suddenly she yelled, and cursed, and stomped to her room.”

“Is she mad at me again?” Snufkin asked.

“She’s always mad.” Sniff said pointedly. “And now, she and Snorkmaiden are leaving us behind. Hey! Wait for me!” He took off after them, much faster than Moomin and Snufkin were, and Snufkin watched the trio of them with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, not always.” Moomin muttered, as he and Snufkin walked behind them. “She’s only been particularly unhappy this summer, for some reason. Something’s been bugging her, but I don’t know what.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know.” Little My snapped, and they both jumped in surprise. She glared up at them, then looked pointedly at Snufkin. “Let’s talk.”

“Ok.” Snufkin said easily, and her eyes slid over to Moomin.

“Alone.” She stressed, and Moomin glared down at her.

“Ok, guys,” Snufkin said quickly, coming between them. “We’re supposed to be having fun. Let’s not fight already.” He gave Moomin a gentle smile. “Why don’t you catch up with Snorkmaiden and Sniff? I’ll talk with Little My. We’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Are you sure, Snufkin?” Moomin asked softly, and Snufkin felt his smile to much finder than it had been a moment ago. Moomin turned red, very quickly, and stammered a few times before striding forward. Snufkin watched him go, momentarily forgetting Little My.

Until she grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop.

“Why are you so grouchy now?” He asked, kneeling down to put himself more at her eye level. Little My pursed her lips, and Snufkin frowned as she stared down at her shoes rather than at him. “Little My? What happened?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She asked softly, and Snufkin frowned at her for a moment. She was unusually bashful, her hands gripping the edges of her dress tightly, and though she glanced at him from under her eyelashes, she kept staring down at the ground.

The best decision, he decided, was to play dumb. Mostly because he had no idea what she was talking about.

“What do you mean?” He asked her gently. That got her attention for more than two seconds, but she didn’t look as angry as she had at the beginning of the walk. She still looked hurt, though, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“You told Mym and Too-Ticky, didn’t you?” She asked, and something was dawning on Snufkin slowly. “That’s why you kept going over. Why Mym kept coming to check in you. They knew about you.”

“Do you remember me, Little My?” Snufkin asked her, his heart pounding in his throat. She gave him a look, one that clearly told him how stupid she thought he was, and Snufkin felt his breath catch at the look. “I’m serious, Little My. Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?”

“I do.” She said, and though her face still said he was stupid, her voice was soft and gentle. “Yesterday, at lunch. I had a headache, and I couldn’t figure out why, and then suddenly…” She made a motion with her hands, putting them together and pulling them apart like an explosion. “It was like all my memory came back, at least all of it concerning you.”

“What do you mean?” Snufkin asked her.

“I remembered the things we did.” She said. “Like Hattifattener island. Just the parts that had you in them were foggy, unclear. Like you were there, but you weren’t. And then they cleared up, and you were there. But nobody else remembered you, just me.” She ducked her head again, kicking at the ground. “Anyone I asked just for a headache, and forgot what we were talking about.”

“It’s been like that all summer.” Snufkin said. “And I’ve started to not bring up anything that could connect to me.”

“Why can’t they remember?” Little My demanded. Snufkin shrugged, still sort of reeling from the fact that Little My, out of everyone else, was the first to remember him. It was shocking, and yet not; she’d always seemed to have the feeling she was being left out of things, and there was nothing she hated more than that.

“It’s a spell,” he said softly, “and one I haven’t been able to find the cause of.”

“Have you searched Moomin House?” She asked, and he hesitated just a second too long; she seemed to take his quietness as a negative, and so crossed her arms decisively. “Ok. When we get back, I’ll look through Moomin House and see what I can find.”

“Little My- - -”

“If you guys don’t hurry up, you’ll get left behind!” They jumped together, Snufkin spinning around to see Snorkmaiden waving at them from ahead. “Come on, guys, we want to set up camp before it gets too dark!”

“We’re coming, Snorkmaiden!” Snufkin called back, turning to Little My. “You can’t tell the others anything.” She pursed her lips, looking vaguely as if she wanted to argue that. “I’m serious, Little My. You’ll only cause headaches and disappointment. You can’t say anything, ok?”

“All right, all right.” She agreed sullenly, scuffing her foot on the dirt again. “But when we get back…”

“When we get back.” Snufkin promised, holding his hand out to her. She surprised him by darting forward, hugging him tightly around his middle.

“I’m sorry for forgetting you.” She said, her words muffled into his chest. “We’ll figure this out, Snufkin.”

“It’s quite all right, Little My.” Snufkin said gently, pushing her off when it got too much. She went willingly, staring up at him with narrowed eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, after all.”

“No,” she agreed, “but I don’t like whoever set the spell up.” She marched onwards before he could agree with her, and Snufkin found that his steps were lighter than before.

They caught up quickly, Little My running ahead to lead the way, and Snufkin matching his pace with Moomin’s.


	8. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, guys.
> 
> Prepare yourselves.

** October **

A sense of panic was definitely beginning to set in on Snufkin now.

He woke up early morning, the first of October, and huddled under his blanket for warmth. It was too early for even the sun to be up, and it was already far too cold for Snufkin to handle getting away from his little cocoon of warmth. He curled around himself under the blanket, keeping warm and feeling the panic set in his chest.

It was looming closer than he’d like; winter, right around the corner. And worse- - -if he left for his usual journey, there might be a chance that Moomin and the Valley forget him again, and it definitely meant that they wouldn’t remember him at all from before. Snufkin was no closer to finding the answers he was looking for now than he’d been when he’d started his search in March. He hadn’t heard from the Joxter at all. Little My was doing her best, but they’d gone camping a bit longer than they’d expected, and she didn’t have Snufkin’s ability to keep quiet; she’d complained to him, the other day, about Moominpappa not letting her in the study, and Moomin keeping her out of his own room.

He still had two months, but they would vanish in the blink of an eye. Time had this nasty habit of moving faster than necessary when all one wanted was for it to slow down, as if being contrary was the whole purpose of its existence.

And while Snufkin normally wouldn’t put too much stock in it, because he’d never minded how time moved before this whole debacle, now it brought him a genuine sense of unease. He found himself, for quite the first time, _seriously considering_ just staying through the winter, in hopes of finding the answer he’d been searching for.

He was starting to believe he’d never get his answer, though. Whoever put the spell on Moomin Valley was clearly long gone, and had been for some time. Even if he found anything at this point, any indication at all, there was no promises that it wouldn’t amount to anything but a wild goose chase.

Feeling more dejected than ever before, Snufkin curled even tighter around himself, and almost missed the sounds of scuffling outside his tent. He lifted his head curiously, just enough to peek over his blanket and make out the shadowed form of Moomintroll outside his tent, and found himself smiling in spite of his mood. Moomin had that effect on him, always managing to make him feel better even without saying anything at all.

It was almost ridiculous, how much Snufkin adored Moomin.

“Good morning, Moomintroll.” He said brightly, his head popping out of the tent, and he watched in amusement as Moomin jumped. The little troll whirled around, his face bright red, and Snufkin pulled his cloak over his head as he made his way out of his tent.

“Morning, Snufkin.” Moomin said softly, and Snufkin tilted his head to the side until his neck cracked rather loudly. Moomin winced, then winced again when Snufkin repeated the action, but smiled brightly at him as he made his way over. “I know it’s early…”

“Yes, and I know you should still be sleeping, I think.” Snufkin said gently. He sat down, gesturing for Moomin to sit next to him, and began making breakfast. “I don’t mind, Moomin. You know I’ve never minded when you come to visit me.”

“You certainly had a lot to say about it last time,” Moomin said. He sounded petulant, but his eyes were glittering in amusement when Snufkin glanced at him from the fire. “All that talk about me not being a morning creature and whatnot.”

“You aren’t.” Snufkin said simply. “You’re a creature of comfort. Waking up early every so often is fine. Doing so every morning is too much for you to handle, little dove. It would make you ill eventually, and then where would we be?”

“That’s true, I guess.” Moomin said. He sounded thoughtful, and Snufkin chanced a glance at him from the corner of his eye. He was leaning back on his hands, staring up at the lightening sky above them and looking somewhat contemplative. Snufkin waited patiently, wondering if there was something on Moomin’s mind and if the troll would bring it up on his own.

They fell into a silence that lasted through Snufkin cooking and them sharing a meal together, one that was comfortable and easy. When they finished eating, the sun higher in the sky than it had been when Moomin arrived, Snufkin took back his plate from Moomin, washing both the plate and the pan in the river that ran by his tent.

“Did you have any plans for today, Moomintroll?” Snufkin asked suddenly, his hands still submerged under the water. Moomin hummed at him, sounding quite like he hadn’t heard the question, and Snufkin half turned to face him to repeat it a bit louder.

Moomin had twisted just a bit, leaning back on his hands again but staring at Snufkin and watching as he tidied up. Snufkin couldn’t remember if they’d shared a meal together at his tent this year, his mind racing but unable to come up with any previous, and more importantly, recent invitations; still, Moomin stayed where he was, sitting in his usual spot comfortably without even offering to help Snufkin clean up.

It had taken almost two years for Moomin to stop even mentioning helping Snufkin clean, and the guilty looks while Snufkin bustled about hadn’t even showed a sign of waning anytime soon. He might not have a roof over his head, or a bathroom, or even a heater in his tent, but Snufkin’s tent was still his home. Moomin was his guest, when they sat outside his tent and ate together, and Snufkin had more than enough manners to remember that it wasn’t polite to make a guest do any work.

It was odd, Snufkin thought distantly, that the thought to help him didn’t even seem to cross Moomin’s mind; he was vaguely aware of Moomin saying something, but there wasn’t any way for him to focus on the words. Snufkin knelt by the river, his hands still submerged, and felt the way his body trembled very slightly. Heard how his heart thundered in his ears, beating so hard that he could feel the pain of it against his chest.

Oh, he thought wildly, oh. Snufkin watched as Moomin tilted his head to the side, his stomach going fluttery at the sight. He was, in the back of his mind, thankful that he was already sitting down, because he was certain that if he’d been standing, he would have fallen in the river. Even the way he was now wasn’t safe; his center of gravity felt off, his world tilting on its axis, and Snufkin found himself more likely to end up in the river than he’d thought.

“Snufkin!” Moomin grabbed his shoulder, knocking Snufkin out of his reverie and bringing him back down to earth with the gentle touch. “Are you all right, Snufkin?”

“I’m ok.” Snufkin said softly, and found he meant it whole heartedly. Still trembling just the slightest bit, Snufkin reached out and pressed wet fingers to the back of Moomin’s hand. “I just needed to…I need to catch my thoughts. Organize them.”

“It’s a Snufkin Day, then.” Moomin said decisively, and Snufkin huffed out a quiet laugh. Moomin squeezes his shoulder, just once, and then stood fully. “I’ll visit later tonight, then. If that’s ok?”

“That’s ok, Moomin.” Snufkin said softly, and Moomin beamed at him before making his way back up the hill. Snufkin watched him go, shivers still racing up and down his spine and his fingers still trembling just the slightest bit.

XXXX

It was almost ridiculous, the truth of the matter, in the way such a thing often was. Snufkin had spent so much time looking _outwards_ , so sure of his conclusion that it had to be someone outside of the Valley, that he hadn’t considered any other possibility. He’d taken his conviction and labeled it as fact, and then grew frustrated when reality wasn’t matching up with what he’d thought for certain had been true.

But that was going much too far ahead.

Something had felt odd, from the moment Snufkin had woken up, and he couldn’t place what it was. The Valley itself felt off, heavy and thick. Snufkin spent the entire day hoping that it didn’t snow early this year, or bring winter too soon.

He’d eaten and was just finished cleaning up after his meal when his ears twitched backwards around noon or so; there was an odd sound coming his way, like the thumping of feet against the grass, and coming his way quickly. Lifting his head curiously, Snufkin turned slightly to face Moomin, who was barreling down so quickly he nearly tripped three times coming down to the bridge.

“Moomin?” He called out, and a loud sob was his answer. He stood up quickly, dropping his only plate on the dirt to run up to him. Thoughts zoomed through his mind, trying to figure out what would distress Moomin so much, and he was coming up blank. Nothing seemed likely, not from what he could think and not from what he could remembering hearing around town; but clearly something was wrong, wrong enough for Moomin to turn to him.

They met halfway, and Moomin threw his arms around Snufkin and held him tight. He put his hands on Moomin’s shoulders, not to push him away, but to acknowledge the gesture and comfort his friend as he sobbed into his shoulder.

“Moomin,” He said gently, leaning his head against Moomin’s. “What is it? What happened?”

“Oh, Snufkin!” Moomin sobbed, and Snufkin found himself at a loss. “Oh, Snufkin, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Snufkin!”

“It’s ok?” Snufkin tried, rubbing his hands up and down Moomin’s back. “Don’t be sorry, Moomin. You’ve nothing to be sorry for, I think.” Moomin sobbed even harder, and Snufkin was even more lost than before. He’d never really had any reason to comfort someone who was crying like this, and he was starting to realize that _that_ bit of information was rapidly being uncovered. “Oh, please, little dove, don’t be upset! Everything is ok.”

“No it’s not!” He wailed, but softly- - -just so that he didn’t hurt Snufkin’s ears right by his mouth. They twitched, brushing against Moomin’s cheek and causing the troll to flinch back just a little; Snufkin tightened his hold, pulling towards himself so Moomin couldn’t get away.

“It’s surely not that bad.” Snufkin reasoned. “Nothing is ever as bad as we make it out to be, Moomintroll. Surely this follows as well, right? It can’t possibly be as bad as you’re thinking it is.”

“Well,” Moomin hiccuped, “just wait. Wait til I tell you what happened.”

“Ok.” Snufkin said, feeling bewildered again. It was worse than in July, because at least he’d known the cause for Moomin’s upset then. He was walking blind now, holding onto Moomin’s tail and trusting him to lead through the darkness. Moomin didn’t even seem to want to tell him, but after several more sobs and a lot more hiccuping breaths, Moomin seemed to gather himself enough to speak. “Just start from the beginning, little dove.”

“Ok,” he said bracingly, “so it started over winter, probably about halfway through. I’d woken up…”

XXXX

Moomin stared up at the ceiling in his room, huddled under his blankets and shivering something fierce. He wasn’t quite sure what had woken him up, only that he was awake now and alone in that; he could hear the creaking of the house, quiet and repetitive, and he could tell that no one else was awake but him.

It was becoming quite the reoccurring occurrence, and Moomin found himself at something of a loss. He knew he was getting older, but Snufkin would say it was against his nature not to hibernate; at the same time, Moomin found himself waking more often during winter, and staying up longer as well. It was quickly starting to become against his nature to hibernate, and he didn’t appreciate the sudden change.

Oh, Snufkin!

The mere thought of his friend brought more alertness to his mind and his body. Moomin sighed and sat up, wrapping his blanket around his head like a hood and keeping the rest of it around his body like a cloak. As he made his way to the window, he sent out a quiet wish that Snufkin was keeping warm in the South, and that winter would be over as soon as possible. The wind rattled against his window, as if mocking him for the latter half of his wish, and Moomin stood in front of the shaking glass and peered out of it.

He could just barely make out the bridge in the snow, and Snufkin’s campsite beyond it; it sat, empty and buried, and Moomin had never seen a more forlorn place in his life. The sight of it brought a heaviness to his heart, a kind of ache that Moomin was well acquainted with. It came out every winter, when he was burrowing into bed and he knew Snufkin was already long gone. Even in his dreams, the ache kept his heart and his mind company, and Moomin always found himself waking and missing Snufkin before he could even open his eyes.

It only vanished on the first day of spring, when he heard the opening notes on Snufkin’s harmonica, and knew he was back home where he belonged.

Or, no, not home- - -because he was Snufkin, and he had no home to speak of. No place he truly belonged, save the Earth and her wonders. He had nothing but his tent and his small pile of supplies, his harmonica and his hat and cloak. There wasn’t anything in the world he longed for, because he had everything he needed. He was Moomin’s best friend, wanted to _be_ nothing but Moomin’s best friend, but even that was only on his own terms; if he ever decided he tired of Moomin Valley, tired of _Moomintroll_ , then Snufkin could be gone without a trace and Moomin would never see him again.

The thought turned the ache in his chest to a sharp pain, and Moomin found himself inching away from the window and back to his bed. He huddled on the mattress, curled up under his own blanket and letting his mind run wild with his thoughts, following them as they turned down to the darker and more depressing alleys of his mind.

This was the problem to waking on your own.

Moomin knew how lucky he was that Snufkin was his best friend, knew how fortunate he was that the Mumrik kept his promise to return to Moomin Valley year after year. When he was younger, it was something he looked forward to every winter, something to take advantage of; now, Moomin could feel how Snufkin itched to get away every winter when it came up. Nobody else saw it, but Moomin made it his business to know all of Snufkin’s tells and signs, watched him at parties until he was too uncomfortable to stay any longer, kept his eyes on him whenever he could.

So though everyone else could claim not to see it, it was noticeable to Moomin, in the way Snufkin’s pupils would dilate when he stared out at the trees, in the tense way he’d flick his tail. The way it always got worse around the fall, when winter was looming and Snufkin was clearly looking forward to his migration out of Moomin Valley. It broke Moomin’s heart each time, because it was just more proof to him that one day Snufkin would leave and never come back to Moomin Valley.

Never come back to him.

His heart hurt something fierce, and Moomin decided that he couldn’t take it if Snufkin left without word of ever coming back. Moomin had been about to tell him his fears before he left this year, but his courage failed him and he sent him off without a word of his concerns. He knew Snufkin wouldn’t make fun of him for it, of course not, but Snufkin wouldn’t appreciate the concerns either.

Moomin sat up suddenly, eyes wide and ears twitching. No one else was awake still, but he’d had an idea. He got up from his bed again, shivering at the icy floor beneath his feet, and made his way down to the kitchen. There was probably food, jam preserves and whatnot, but that wasn’t what he was looking for; instead, he made the beeline to where his mother kept her grandmother’s book, and pulled it off of the shelf.

It had always been plenty helpful in the past; there was no reason why it shouldn’t be helpful now.

The creaking kept putting Moomin on edge as he searched through the book, finally landing on the page he needed. He read the information as quickly as possible, and then read it again once he’d finished. There was a bit he was unsure of, which required him to keep the written spell nearby, and Moomin huffed out in frustration. He couldn’t take the whole book with him, or Mamma would surely worry that it was gone, and he couldn’t sleep down here, because it was uncomfortable. With furtive glances all around, Moomin did the one thing he’d never before done in his life; meticulously, while simultaneously praying that he’d never get caught, he tore the page from the book with a steady and careful hand.

Putting it back where he’d found it, Moomin practically ran the distance back to his room and lay down in bed again. Burrowing himself under the covers again, Moomin stared at the paper again and debated on whether he really wanted to do this or not; Snufkin wouldn’t hate him for the fierce and protective love Moomin had for him, but he likely wouldn’t be pleased by it. He might even feel that he’d been around Moomin Valley too long and just leave them then and there.

It wasn’t likely, and Moomin knew that his thoughts ran harsher while he was alone during winter like this. But there wasn’t much he could do now, he’d already torn the page from the book. It seemed a bit silly to do such a thing without even following through on it. And it would be such a relief to finally greet Snufkin the way the Mumrik seemed to always want to, aloof and uncaring with not a lot of familiarity.

Mind made up, Moomin read through the instructions one more time, and then closed his eyes. In a quiet tone, he whispered the spell to himself, tucking the paper half under his pillow and turning his back to it. He repeated it again and again, huddled alone and falling into unconsciousness with each iteration of the words.

By the last time, he fell into a deep sleep that wouldn’t break until the first day of spring, rising with the sun bright and early; he’d tiptoe past Little My’s room so that she could sleep, and go wake Snorkmaiden instead so that they could gather flowers from the field. Without realizing it, he’d slept through the majority of winter, and so he’d awaken during spring ready to begin his year again with all of his friends.

But now, he didn’t even notice as the paper glowed brightly in the semi-darkness of his room before returning to normal.

XXXX

“It was you?” Snufkin asked, dismayed. He’d sat down at some point during Moomin’s recollection, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be feeling. Moomin was apologizing, his words coming out in stutters between his gasps of breath. “Do you even have any kind of magic?”

“I must have!” Moomin sounded so upset, Snufkin knew he should say something to him, something reassuring, but he didn’t know what. He didn’t even know how he was feeling right now, except empty. “Oh, I didn’t mean to forget you completely Snufkin, I don’t even know how that happened!”

“I know.” Snufkin said quietly. They sat in silence for a moment, or as near to silence as they could get, because Moomin was still crying. Snufkin still felt a bit empty, and unsure of what to do.

He’d spent so long searching, trying to find some kind of hint to what kind of evil person would do this to his best friend; he didn’t know what to think of the fact that his best friend did it to himself. Not only that, but that Moomin had done this to himself in order to make Snufkin happier, in some weird leap of logic that only Moomin could ever make.

After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet silently. He could feel Moomin watching him as he put out the fire quietly, could still hear him sniffling softly as he tried to get his breathing under control. He didn’t say anything until Snufkin began taking his tent down, packing his things into his backpack in silence, and even then it was just a watery, weak sounding whimper of his name.

“I have to go.” Snufkin told him gently. There was no emotion in his voice; he still wasn’t sure how to feel. “I’ll try to be back soon, before winter hits. But I need some space to sort this out. I need to be alone right now.”

“Ok.” Moomin sounded resigned, and miserable, and Snufkin looked at him for the first time since Moomin finished his recollection. His eyes were red and watery, and his fur was looking a bit matted where tears were tracking their way down his face. “Ok, Snufkin.”

“I’m not mad, Moomin.” Snufkin said, and it wasn’t even a lie. He wasn’t mad, or upset, or even uncaring of what happened. He was just…empty. Numb. No feelings whatsoever, and though he’d meant to be reassuring, Moomin’s smile was shaky and full of sorrow.

“You aren’t mad now.” Moomin said softly, “but you’ll be mad later.”

Snufkin didn’t argue. Once he had time to process everything completely, he’d likely be mad. That was another reason he needed to get away; he didn’t want to lash out in anger at Moomin before he fully understood everything. There wouldn’t be any way to alienate the little troll faster than hurting him in a fit of anger Snufkin would regret later. He needed to sort his feelings out, deal with them on his own, and then meet with Moomin once he was much calmer.

He finished packing his campsite, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

“I’ll try to be back before winter hits.” Snufkin told Moomin, and the troll swallowed heavily. “If I’m not…” he hesitated, and more tears poured down the side of Moomin’s face.

“Goodbye, Snufkin.” He whispered, and Snufkin turned on his heel, and left.

XXXX

He walked and walked and walked, not knowing where he was going and not really caring. Snufkin spent the majority of his winters like this, just wandering aimlessly around, and even though it felt too early for him to be doing such a thing now…

Well. He could be excused just this once, couldn’t he?

He’d barreled past Little My, probably a day or two ago; she looked guilty and unhappy, struggling to keep up with him and speak at the same time. Her words sunk deeper into his mind than he’d anticipated at the moment, though he knew it looked like he hadn’t been listening, and she’d only followed him long enough to try and explain herself before falling back. Snufkin marched onwards, pressing his lips together tightly and forcing himself not to look back.

(“It had fallen under his bed, nobody knew it was down there, I don’t know where he’d gotten it from, I didn’t know Moomin had magic, Snufkin, wait, please, I don’t think he _meant_ for this to happen, Snufkin, where are you going, _don’t leave_ , please, Snufkin!”)

He’d left her behind in the Valley, right on the beach by the Moomins’ beach house. She’d yelled one last thing after him, of course, because she always had to get the last word in somehow- - -

(“You’ll come back, Snufkin, and we’ll be here when you do!”)

\- - -and Snufkin was left on his own. It wasn’t raining, wouldn’t be for some more time, and so when he hunkered down at night to sleep, he didn’t bother to set up his tent; instead, he huddled amongst some outcroppings of rock to protect from the wind, and wrapped himself so completely in his blanket that he was barely able to breathe.

This far away from Moomin, from the Valley and the situation Snufkin had found himself in for the better part of the year didn’t help as much as Snufkin thought it would. He felt oddly betrayed, as if Moomin had cast the spell maliciously, even though he knew Moomin wouldn’t ever even consider hurting him that way at all.

He just didn’t understand what happened. Why Moomin would suddenly doubt that Snufkin would come back to him, or back to the Valley. He never called Moomin Valley his home, that was true, but that was because Moomin Valley _wasn’t_ his home; not really, anyway, not the way it was for Moomin and Little My and Snorkmaiden. It was just the place he returned to, like a base of operations in a way, and- - -

Besides, Moomin never even talked to him about the whole thing anyway! Snufkin practically growled, the sound muffled in his little cocoon as it was. If Moomin was having these kinds of thoughts, if he was having even the hint of the _idea_ , he was supposed to talk to Snufkin. Let him know what was going on, so that he could reassure him as best as he could. That he went off and did this on his own, over winter while Snufkin wasn’t there to talk him out of it properly…

And, and, Snufkin thought, the question of how still lingered; he’d never known Moomin to have magic, or any of them really, and so this whole thing shouldn’t have been possible to begin with! It made _no sense_ , no sense at all, and Snufkin was beginning to feel it. He was lost, and confused, and felt very hurt and very much betrayed. Scrambling to unfurl himself from his cocoon, Snufkin sucked in huge gulps of the sea air in an attempt to reel himself in.

As he calmed down, his chest heaving with his attempts to breathe, a slow thought crept in and settled in his head. It settled so neatly and so deeply that Snufkin abruptly stopped, his blood cold in his body and his heart stopping in his chest.

Had Moomin _wanted_ to forget him? Snufkin had little to no knowledge of how magic worked, and if Moomin had really hidden how much magic he actually had…

He thought, suddenly, about Moomin’s face the last time he saw him; tear streaked, miserable, but all the more honest because of it. Moomin had been genuinely upset that he’d forgotten Snufkin, and it settled Snufkin’s mind easily. He sank down onto the sand, wrapping himself in his blanket again and just watching the waves crash down on the shore while his heart and breathing went back to normal.

When the sun rose in the morning, Snufkin headed more inland, away from the beach and the ocean. The sand quickly gave way to grass, the empty air around him evolving into trees and bushes. He was on the outskirts of the Valley, Snufkin thought, though everything was only familiar in the vaguest sense; the idea that, if he turned right and headed in that direction, he’d be back in the Valley before he knew it, if hat was the direction he wanted to go

Snufkin kept straight, his hands tightening on his backpack.

There wasn’t anyone on the trail with him, and Snufkin found himself thankful for that. He was barely good company on his own on a good day, and he was in mood to deal with anyone else chattering at him right now. He took in the colors of the leaves as he walked, trying his best not to think about what was happening in his life right now. Twice he turned halfway, ready to point something out to Moomin, and he felt awkward as he faced forward again and trudged onwards.

He walked until the path split in front of him, one path going to the right and the other to the left. He pursed his lips, deliberated for a moment, and decided he wasn’t quite ready to return to Moomin Valley just yet. His heart, though beating calmly, felt as if it held a maelstrom of emotions, most of them hurt and negative, and he wasn’t still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just yell at Moomin in sight for not thinking to even speak to Snufkin about what was going through his head.

He turned left, and continued on alone.


	9. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is!! The end, guys!!
> 
> (Lowkey thinking of putting in an epilogue...;))

** November **

He ran into Alicia, the first day of November, the girl sitting in the middle of a meadow and humming to herself as she gathered herbs. Snufkin stood there for a moment, surprised at the sudden appearance of the girl, as if she’d accidentally discovered him instead of the other way around; then he stepped forward, keeping his movements silent until he came up next to her.

“Hello, Alicia.” He said softly, and he watched as she visibly startled and whipped her head up to stare at him. There was a brief moment where it looked like she didn’t remember who he was; her face twisted from polite to slightly curious to puzzled and then settled, after a few moments, on a bright recognition that gave Snufkin an odd feeling in his stomach.

“Snufkin!” She said, and she sounded genuinely pleased to see him. “It’s been so long! How are you?” She stood up, not even bother to dust herself off before trying to grab him into a hug. Snufkin stepped back easily, avoiding her gesture with a practiced sort of grace that made her flush slightly. She brushed herself off then, self consciously as if that had been the issue, but Snufkin maintained a polite distance between them and she didn’t try to hug him again.

“It has been some time, Alicia.” He said instead, forcing a polite smile. “I’ve not seen you in the Valley lately.”

“No, Grandmother was quite insistent about staying out during winter, and we’ve been so busy since that we haven’t gone back for even a short visit.” She sighed softly. “I’ve been in constant training since we left, honestly. But I’m sure my grandmother wouldn’t mind me taking a break now!” She brightened visibly, leaning to the side. Her bright eyes scanned the horizon behind him almost expectantly, and for a second he wondered who it was she was looking for. “Is Moomin with you? Little My?”

Ah, of course.

“I’m quite on my own at the moment.” Snufkin said, and Alicia’s face fell just a bit.

“Oh.” She said, and he only slightly wondered at the quiet undercurrent of disappointment; she was more Moomin’s friend than Snufkin’s, though, and so when she smiled at him, he mimicked the expression. At least, he did until she kept talking. “Well, that’s quite all right. Would you care for some lunch, Snufkin? I’m sure Grandmother wouldn’t mind the guest, since I’ve been working so hard.”

“I’d rather not.” Snufkin said stiffly. He wasn’t entirely sure that the Witch wanted him around Alicia, considering they’d been gone for the better part of the year training, and he didn’t want to do or say anything that could potentially cause her to be upset with him- - -or Moomin, or the Valley, especially the way things were now.

Best to play it safe, for now.

“Oh, ok.” Alicia sat down, looking a bit disappointed. Snufkin sat down as well, a little bit further from the space she’d patted beside her. He thought they were done talking when she started gathering herbs again, but she gave him a sideways look and a small smile. “So what’s been going on in the Valley recently? Tell me all the news!”

“I don’t quite want to talk about what’s been happening in the Valley.” Snufkin said softly, with an effort to keep it from sounding short. He didn’t want Alicia to think he was cross with her, per say, but he felt it came out quite shortly anyway; she stopped and stared at him, her hands tightening into fists on her lap.

“Nobody’s been hurt, have they?” She asked. “Moomin? Snorkmaiden, Little My, Sniff?”

“Everyone is ok, physically.” Snufkin said. “That’s not the issue. I don’t want to talk about it now, Alicia.” She bit her lip and looked down at her lap, nodding softly, and Snufkin sighed under his breath. It wasn’t really her fault she didn’t know what was going on, and he shouldn’t be taking anything out on her. “I’m sorry, Alicia, I’m being terrible company. I really ought to go onwards now.”

“You’re not going back to the Valley?” She asked, and then her brow furrowed a bit more; she seemed to mentally tally the days until she realized the current date. “You’ve left early this year. It’s not winter already, is it?”

“No, no.” Snufkin said softly. He sighed, just a bit, and bit the bullet, so to speak. “There was…a spell, in Moomin Valley this year. Took control of the whole Valley.” Alicia seemed to freeze, staring at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “They quite forgot me over winter, you see, and I just- - -”

Alicia stood up suddenly, dropping the herbs she’d been gathering. Snufkin automatically began gathering them up to help, staring up at her in bewilderment.

“Alicia?”

“She promised!” She said angrily, and Snufkin watched as she turned on her heel and _stomped_ out of the meadow. He deliberated for just a moment before standing and rushing after her; the herbs were left, forgotten, on the ground, but they also seemed to be the least of Alicia’s worries. Snufkin caught up with her quite easily, and he was surprised at how deep her frown had gotten.

She looked furious, almost as much as Little My could be, and Snufkin found himself feeling quite glad _he_ wasn’t the one on the opposite end of that look. It took a moment before he realized that she was even muttering under her breath, and Snufkin felt his ears twitching underneath his hat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, panting only a little in his effort to keep up with her, “but who promised?”

“My grandmother.” She said through gritted teeth. “She _promised_ me that she wouldn’t put any spells on the Valley, and she-she- _ugh_!” Alicia stopped for a moment to tug at her hair, and Snufkin stopped gratefully beside her. He didn’t have time to catch his breath at all; almost immediately, Alicia strode forward. “ _Now_ I know why she wanted to leave the Valley so bad! _Now_ I know why she hasn’t wanted to go back!”

“Um, Alicia- - -”

“She _always_ goes behind my back and does this, it’s not fair!” Alicia snarled. “I’ve listened, I’ve focused, _I’ve trained_ , and she still goes and pulls this!” Snufkin, wisely, decided against correcting her for the moment. She’d worked herself up into quite the rage, and he wasn’t eager to have that anger directed his way for any reason at all, even if he was quite sure the Witch wasn’t _actually_ at fault for this. Too-Ticky had thought so, anyway, and she’d never given Snufkin a reason to doubt her before.

And if they’d left when Alicia and Too-Ticky said they had, then the timeline didn’t match up anyway. They’d left before winter started, before Snufkin left, and the Valley had forgotten him over winter. There was no way the Witch was powerful enough to reach them from here.

Still, he didn’t say anything as Alicia threw open the door, glaring down at her grandmother cooking in the kitchen. Privately, he felt it was best to let her release her anger and try to control the situation from there.

XXXX

Snufkin had lunch with the Witch and her granddaughter.

Alicia was still fuming as she ate, glaring down at her bowl in silence while Snufkin and the Witch talked. Or, rather, while Snufkin asked his questions and the Witch answered them.

It was not going well.

“Hmm, yes.” The Witch said easily, humming as she did, “I quite recall passing Moomin House before winter.” Snufkin grit his teeth, working very hard to make the grinding noise they made inaudible. From the amused look the Witch gave him, he wasn’t successful.

“The spell- - -” He started pointedly.

“Oh, I cast no spell!” The Witch cried, and Alicia snorted into her bowl. “Hush, child, eat your food. I promised that I wouldn’t do anything malicious to the Moomins or the Valley, and I’ve not gone back on my word. No, I cast no spell on your friend, Snufkin, certainly no memory one!”

“But there was something.” Snufkin said, and the Witch sighed.

“Well,” she started, and Alicia glared at her. “It wasn’t anything bad. Or, rather, it wasn’t meant for anything bad.” The Witch rolled her eyes a bit. “The Little Moomin had been so insistent on being Alicia’s friend, and it had made her so happy.”

“Grandmother…”

“I’ve never seen such positively determined creatures, and so when I passed by Moomin House,” The Witch said loudly, “I sensed a great sort of longing coming from it. And as a thanks, for making my granddaughter happy,” The Witch shrugged almost carelessly. “I left behind a drop of power. Enough to make one wish come true, when applied to a proper spell.”

“Can you do that?” Snufkin asked, his eyes wide and his voice barely a whisper. The Witch scoffed, shaking her head gently.

“I’m a witch, dearie,” she said none too gently, “I have great powers, and I can choose what to do with them. I thought a kindness for a kindness would balance out well, and not leave me indebted for the small sake of my granddaughter’s happiness. I merely gave the Little Moomin the ability to do something about his longing. It was heavy and wretched upon the house, layered on so thickly I was quite surprised the whole thing didn’t just collapse.”

“Can a spell born from that be undone?” Snufkin asked softly.

“It depends on the spell.” The Witch said. “I don’t know the specifics, you see. I wasn’t there when the spell was cast. It was your Moomin who had the power, and your Moomin who cast the spell. You need to figure out what reason he would have for such a spell. It has potential to be undone, if that would be required.”

“I don’t know about required,” Snufkin said, “but I would very much request that it be undone. It’s a memory spell.”

“Those are quite tricky,” the Witch mused, “but it can be done, I suppose. Alicia and I will need to work together on it.”

“Do you know how long it will take?” Snufkin asked. He had his answer, he supposed, twice over now. There was something heavy in his chest, sitting and pulling in a direction he couldn’t name. He didn’t hear the Witch’s answer, or Alicia’s questioning response, and he barely noticed when one or the other took his bowl from him for washing. He poked and prodded at the feeling in his chest, tilting it this way and that until he realized what it was: an emotional sickness, thick and heavy, pointing back in the direction he’d come from.

Suddenly, he just wanted to go home.

XXXX

Snufkin stared up at the sky, laying spread eagle on the cold ground.

The wind was cold and the sky was clear, and the stars shone in the sky brightly. They made the edges of his lips curl up in a smile, sad and broken as it felt to him; they also made the entirety of his right side feel cold, and his hand feel twitchy with a phantom weight. For a moment, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the issue was; he’d never been particularly cold while wearing his cloak, and there was no reason for his hand to spasm occasionally the way it was now, except- - -

Except.

He remembered, suddenly, laying just like this with Moomin at his side; they did so often, when nights were especially clear enough for it, or especially when it got closer and closer to Snufkin leaving the Valley. They’d been stargazing, Snufkin pointing out constellations he’d seen, or heard about, or made up while on his own. The night air had been chilly, somewhat, though neither Moomin or Snufkin felt the cold, and Snufkin could really only focus on the warmth of Moomin pressed up against his side from shoulder to ankle.

That is, until- - -

(“Hey, Snufkin?”

“Yes, Moomin?”

“Have you ever thought about marriage?”

“Marriage?”

“Yes. Marriage. To someone, you know, a person you love and hold dear. A home to stay in, to keep safe from rain and snow, and to enjoy with another.”

“Why would I think about marriage, Moomin?”

“Well…”

“I mean, honestly, it’s just not something I’d consider for myself, ever. I’m a Snufkin. I need to wander and be free, and marriage would do nothing but tie me down to someone I would likely grow to resent eventually. I don’t want that.”

“Oh…”

“What’re you thinking about marriage for anyway, Moomin?”

“Nothing really, I guess. I was just curious…”)

\- - -and then they’d trailed off into silence. An awkward kind of silence, heavy and full of unsaid emotions. A different kind of silence, Snufkin remembered with a jolt, more similar to the one he and Moomin shared after Moomin had kissed him on Hattifattner island than any other they’d shared before. And then! And then- - -

(“What we should do is travel the world!”

“ _Travel_?”

“Yes, yes, instead of marriage! You and I could go together, Moomin! There’s so much of the earth to see, so much past whatever lies around Moomin Valley. One day, I’ll _have_ to leave, and see it! And maybe I won’t be back to the Valley, not for another couple of years, but you could come with me!”

“Yea?”

“Yea! Like Moominpappa and the Joxter, when they were younger. Before Moominpappa got married. Before the Joxter…met the Mymble, and had me, I suppose. But better! It would be so much fun, Moomin!”

“And…and what would happen after?”

“After?”

“After we travel the world. After we see everything. What would happen?”

“Oh. Well. Then I suppose you would get married, Moomintroll. You would likely start your own family, and tell stories of all of your adventures! And I’d keep on moving.” … “Oh, don’t cry, Moomin! Of course I’d come to visit you! More often than the Joxter does Moominpappa, I could probably assure you of that!”)

\- - -and all at once, Snufkin felt foolish and dumb, and as stupid as Little My kept telling him he was. He’d thought, at the time, that Moomin was upset about Snufkin leaving him behind while he grew comfortable in his life, and in a way, Moomin was; he’d been heartbroken because Snufkin had compared them to their parents, had imagined a future where they were meant to go down different paths.

But it had run so much deeper to Moomin, probably about as deeply it had hurt Snufkin to say such things so carelessly. He’d thought, incorrectly, that Moomin was asking because he’d been thinking about his own marriage to Snorkmaiden, and Snufkin had gone along with his own thoughts without asking for input from Moomin at all. Worse, he’d broken Moomin’s heart, because Moomin hadn’t been asking about Snorkmaiden at all, or even implying it would be about her in any capacity.

He’d been asking because he’d wanted to…what, be married to Snufkin?

It was such a ridiculous thought that Snufkin nearly tossed it aside with a snort and a shake of his head, but at the last moment he stopped; because it had been important to Moomin, and that meant that it was serious enough for Snufkin to consider.

So. Had Moomin been asking about Snufkin? Specifically, marriage with Snufkin? He frowned, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side. Why would he bother? What would the point of it even be? Moomin found him interesting, sure, and was always enthralled by his stories. He kept making sure Snufkin was involved if he wanted to be, but left him alone if he wanted to be alone. Little My kept loudly announcing how lovesick he got when Snufkin was away, and even Snorkmaiden- - -

Suddenly, he felt even stupider.

Because he loved Snufkin, he thought miserably. Loved him enough to want the feelings gone, not because he wasn’t happy, but because he thought it would make Snufkin happy. Because he didn’t want to tie Snufkin down, so that Snufkin would grow to resent him and the Valley; so that when the time came for Snufkin to leave them both behind for good, he wasn’t broken irreparably by the loss of him.

He wasn’t particularly surprised to find that he was crying, really. Snufkin felt terrible, because he’d hurt Moomin so deeply that the troll was forced to do something like this, not even knowing it would work properly but hoping that it did. And to make matters even worse, it didn’t even work the way Moomintroll had wanted it to!

Because he’d forgotten Snufkin, and so had the Valley, but his feelings of love were strong enough to overcome such simple magic, and so those persisted. He may not have understood why, or even how, but Snufkin knew that Moomin had loved him as fiercely as ever even when he hadn’t known him at all.

Moomin loved Snufkin almost as fiercely as Snufkin loved Moomintroll.

The thought spurred him into action, and Snufkin pushed himself to his feet. He took apart his campsite in record time, shoving things haphazardly into his backpack and using force to make sure it closed properly. Double checking that he had everything he needed, Snufkin turned on his heel and _ran_ down the path that had brought him up here.

He didn’t particularly like traveling in the dark; his night vision was good, but nowhere near as good as, say, the Joxter’s, but that was the furthest thing from his mind right now. Night traveling be darned, Snufkin was determined to get back into Moomin Valley as soon as possible. Winter was coming, rapidly approaching, and he was wasting time pulling himself together up here when there were other things he could be doing.

He needed to get back to Moomin.

XXXX

He practically flew down the path, barely pausing to rest each night. He’d gone a lot further than he’d anticipated, and the thought of winter starting while he was still so far from Moomin, when they’d parted on such bad terms the month before…

The thought only inspired him to run that much faster.

XXXX

He barreled on so quickly he barely noticed when the forest started looking familiar. Snufkin didn’t stop, but it made his legs move quicker than before. It really wasn’t comfortable running with his backpack and things on his back, but he didn’t feel as if he had much choice in the matter; there were still at least two weeks before winter, but they would go by so quickly. It was urgent he got to Moomin as soon as possible.

The wind was cold enough to burn as he ran, hurting his lungs as he dropped his bag carelessly to the ground. He was by his own campsite now, so close to Moomin House and somehow still so far away. There was a moment where he debated knocking on the front door before he tossed the idea aside. He didn’t want to see Moominmamma or Moominpappa, or even Little My; Moomin was the one who’d set this in motion, and Moomin was the one who deserved to hear it from Snufkin.

He made a beeline towards the ladder instead, scrambling up it as quickly as he could in order to get to Moomin quicker. There was a moment where he doubted that Moomin was even home, because it wasn’t like he’d anticipated Snufkin coming back, and anyway Snufkin never sent word that he was, in fact, coming back. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do if Moomin wasn’t home, honestly; his energy meant that he wouldn’t be able to sit still while he waited, but he wouldn’t have the faintest idea at all where Moomin had gone either.

It didn’t matter, in the end. Moomin sat on his bed, curled up under the blanket against the cold of the house, and Snufkin felt his his heart melt.

“Moomin!” He gasped, holding onto the ledge of the window tightly. He felt light headed and winded, both because of his run and the height of the tower. He probably looked a fright too, which would explain the gasp that came from the bed and the way Moomin scrambled up from it.

“Snufkin!” He cried back, making his way to window in record speed. His paws hovered in the air, as if Moomin wanted to touch him and pull him in but couldn’t decide if his touch was welcomed or not. Snufkin solved the dilemma by reaching forward himself, sliding off of the ledge and onto his feet.

That had been the plan, anyway; but the constant walking and running meant that his legs were not at their strongest, and so Snufkin slid straight to the floor with his hands reached up to Moomin’s, somewhere above his head.

“Snufkin! What happened? Should I get Mamma?”

“No, don’t- - -” Snufkin had run too far for Moomin to leave him now. His hands shook and his legs trembled, and his body heaved from the amount of air he was trying to force into his lungs, but he persevered; this was far too important to him. “Don’t go- - -stay, please, Moomin…stay with me…”

“Of course, Snufkin…” Moomin sounded so gentle, so soft, Snufkin couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes. “Oh, Snufkin, don’t cry, please.”

“I can’t help it.” Snufkin gasped out. He rubbed his eye on his shoulder, wishing he hadn’t lost his hat climbing up the tower, but there wasn’t much he could do about anything right now. His legs still felt like rubber, trembling minutely under the strain of their sudden journey. “I can’t help it, Moomin, it’s been so long…”

“I know, Snufkin, I know.” Moomin said gently, pulling Snufkin forward. Snufkin followed him, helpless to do anything else, and sighed heavily when Moomin enveloped him in a hug.

He was softer than Snufkin remembered, somehow, softer and warmer and much gentler than before. Snufkin sniffled once, twice, and then pulled away so that he could wipe at his face properly. Moomin let him, staring at him with a furrowed brow but a warm look.

“I’m sorry,” Snufkin offered gently, “I’m being a bit silly, aren’t I?”

“I don’t think so.” Moomin said just as gently. He gave Snufkin another moment to gather himself, then prompted, “what, exactly, brought this on? Are you all right, Snufkin?”

“I’m fine, Moomin.” Snufkin said, and then laughed at the deadpan look Moomin gave him in response. “Well, ok, not _fine_ , but I’m better now, promise. I just…” and here his words faltered for a moment before he said, “I just wanted to be with you. Before winter, and before your hibernation.”

“What about…” Moomin trailed off, looking worried, and Snufkin couldn’t help the twitch of his lips if he tried.

“Oh, Moomin, I’m so sorry about that,” he said softly, and Moomin looked thunderstruck. He opened his mouth to say something, only to immediately freeze when Snufkin, very gently, put his hands on top of his lips to silence him. “You found the spell, yes. The Witch gave you the magic to bring it to reality, however well intentioned she meant the gift to be. But I was the one who gave you the idea that it would be necessary, and so I’m to blame for this whole mess.”

“I just wanted you to be happy, Snufkin.” Moomin whispered miserably, and Snufkin smiled gently up at him. “I didn’t want you to resent me for something out of my control.”

“I know, Moomin,” he said softly, “and I’m so grateful for you. And I could never resent you for anything. It’s your nature, to be loving and caring and kind. I’d never want you to go against your nature for anything in the world, even me.”

“But…”

“No, no buts. I mean it, Moomin.” Snufkin sighed through his nose. “I’m as stupid as Little My makes me out to be, sometimes, and more blind than I should have been despite my night vision. You’ve been so patient with me, little dove, perhaps more so than I’ve deserved.”

“You keep calling me that, every so often.” Moomin said, still quiet. He was starting to look pleased now, under the sorrow in his face, and Snufkin promised to himself that he’d banish any sorrow from Moomin completely. His thumbs, quite on their own, began caressing Moomin’s cheeks. “I like that. Little dove. It sounds nice.”

“It’s slipped out, huh?” Snufkin sounded amused, laying back on the floor of Moomin’s room. Moomin mimicked him, laying beside him but reaching out for Snufkin’s hand. Their fingers intertwined, and Snufkin found himself feeling more grounded than ever before. “How did you remember, anyway?”

“Little My kept snooping around,” Moomin said, “and she wouldn’t tell us why. She’s the one who found the paper in my room, under my bed. And she’d put two and two together.” Snufkin felt his lips press together; he’d just barely missed looking under Moomin’s bed, back in August or September when he’d searched. “She yelled at me until my head hurt, and then yelled at me some more. You know, she gives a real good thrashing without ever having to touch you once.”

“She’s quite terrifying.” Snufkin said agreeably.

“She is.” Moomin huffed out. “But…she stopped yelling and then my head stopped hurting. And…all the memories of you…the ones from before…” his voice broke, and Snufkin squeezed his hand encouragingly. “The memories came back. Or, rather, you came back into them. And I didn’t even think- - -I had to tell you right away.” Moomin shifted, and Snufkin turned his head to meet his eyes.

“Don’t apologize.” He said softly. “I pushed you to it, Moomin. Don’t apologize, and don’t make excuses for me.”

“It must have been very lonely.” Moomin said softly, “being the only one who remembered anything.”

“For a bit.” Snufkin said, and then sat up so suddenly that Moomin cried out. He tugged on his own hair, snickering slightly and staring at the ground with wide eyes as realization crashed down on him. “Oh, I ran into that Witch! She was supposed to have a remedy for me!”

“A witch?” Moomin said loudly. “Not Alicia’s grandmother?”

“The one and the same!” Snufkin closed his eyes. “Ah, she was supposed to make a remedy for the memory spell, but she and Alicia were still debating it when I left. I was in quite the rush to get here, you see. Wanted to be back before winter hit.”

“We can just have Little My yell at them like she did me.” Moomin giggled. “Everyone will get a chance to remember, and she’ll be pleased as punch to yell at everyone else.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out that doesn’t require Little My yelling.” Snufkin said easily. He laid back down again, bringing Moomin with him. “We can worry about it later though. I’ll let you know what’s happened with me this year.”


	10. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to make a mug or something that says “I waited a whole damn month for this story, and all I got was this shitty epilogue”, hahahaha.
> 
> Honestly, guys, I’m really sorry this took so long. I’m not even sure where this was supposed to be going, really. Thank you guys, all of you who were oh so patiently waiting for this to come out. All of you, silent readers or otherwise, really are the best!! Thank you for spending your time reading, and reviewing, and taking this little journey with me.
> 
> Hopefully this last chapter lives up to all your expectations, especially considering the long wait you’ve had for it!! :)

** March **

Snufkin stood at the edge of the forest, his fingers holding tight to the straps of his backpack; his hand was trembling just enough to be noticeable, his breathing purposefully deep and even as he tried to calm himself down. In his other hand, clenched just as tightly, his harmonica creaked slightly in protest. He was nervous, and even though he was trying to calm himself down, it wasn’t working.

He could see Moomin House from here, of course, and his usual campsite was not far away at all; twenty steps, maybe twenty five, from where he stood in the shade of the trees, hidden away from where Moomin Valley woke up for spring. Snufkin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling the wind as it ruffled his hat and hair comfortingly. It helped soothe him, not enough to give him the courage to step out from the trees, but enough to make him relax his grip and put his harmonica to his mouth.

The door to Moomin House burst open, quite loudly, and Snufkin dropped his harmonica quickly. Without thinking, he took a step back into the trees, hiding himself even further. Distantly, he could already hear Little My’s voice, bossy and loud as always.

“- - -and another thing!” She was shouting at Moomin, stomping after him as he made his way down the path, “you did _not_ tell me that Snufkin had come back before winter hit! I wanted a chance to say goodbye to my brother, Moomintroll!”

“That’s not my fault!” Moomin shouted back at her, holding his head high as he stomped his way down the bridge. “ _You_ were the one who left to go see Mym and Too-Ticky, and didn’t come back until bedtime! Snufkin couldn’t possibly stay that late, Little My!”

“I wouldn’t have left- - -” She cut herself off as they arrived at the bridge, Moomin taking great care to sit in his usual spot and make himself comfortable while they waited. “Where is Snufkin? Normally you’d hear his music by now…”

“He’s here, I’m sure.” Moomin said confidently, swinging his legs over the water. “Here, or nearby. Just be patient, Little My.”

“I don’t _want_ to be patient.” Little My grumbled, but she climbed onto the middle log of the bridge to sit above Moomin, leaning her head on the hand rail and swinging her own feet as well.

Snufkin watched them as they sat in silence, feeling more than a little relieved and not wanting to show it. The knot in his chest, which he hadn’t even noticed growing and growing, vanished; it was easier to breathe, all of a sudden, and his chest felt lighter than it had all winter. He hadn’t composed much, but there was a tried and true song that Moomin would recognize, and it didn’t take much to bring the harmonica to his lips and begin to play.

Moomin’s ears perked up, and he straightened right away; his head turned so quickly as Snufkin stepped out into the clearing that even Snufkin winced at the crack that was sure to have followed such a movement. He scrambled to his feet, nearly face planting onto the bridge on three separate occasions, and hovered in place for a moment. Snufkin tilted his head to the side, still playing, and Moomin darted forward.

They met in the middle, like they always did. Snufkin dropped his harmonica to his side mid-song, laughter bubbling in his chest and escaping out through his lips as Moomin lifted him into the air and spun him around. His backpack provided an odd counterbalance, his things clunking together from the force of Moomin spinning them around.

“Snufkin!” He was saying loudly, hugging the Mumrik to his chest as tightly as he could, “you’re here! Welcome back!”

“Hello, Moomintroll!” Snufkin said back, reaching up to briefly hug Moomin’s neck. He was deposited gently onto the ground, pulling back to meet Moomin’s bright eyes and beaming smile with a small smile of his own. “Having a good spring so far, then?”

“Better now that you’re here.” Moomin said, and then yelped loudly as Little My decided to make herself known again; he bent down a bit as she stomped up, rubbing at the back of his leg with only a small frown.

“Excuse me,” she said pointedly, throwing a glare at Moomin before frowning up at Snufkin. Her eyes trailed, quite pointedly, from the top of his hat down to the soles of his boots. Snufkin allowed the firm sort of examination from his older sister; last year wasn’t too far past, after all, and it had been an odd one in accordance to anybody’s standards. A bit of discomfort from such close scrutiny in order to appease Little My, who honestly didn’t ask for much, was something Snufkin was more than willing to endure. “Hello, Snufkin. How was your winter?”

“Just fine, Little My.” Snufkin said, scratching the back of his neck. He was willing to endure it, but it was still uncomfortable. She glanced away, crossing her arms over her chest, and Snufkin breathed a tad bit easier now that her eyes had been drawn away. “How was your hibernation?”

“Lousy.” She snapped. “I spent a good portion of it not sleeping well because of bad dreams, and not sleeping well due to discomfort.” She didn’t look it, and she certainly didn’t sound it, Snufkin thought to himself, and wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. Some things never changed, after all, and one of those things was Little My and her rather large temper.

Well, two things; her rather large temper, and the rather incredible strength she had considering the size of her.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Little My.” Snufkin said instead, and she scowled at him just a bit, like she didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. “I am, honest!” She opened her mouth to retaliate, and was completely cut off before she was able to do so.

“Moomin! Little My!” Moominmamma called from the porch, and they all turned to look at her. She looked the same as the year before, and Snufkin wasn’t surprised to find his heart aching just a bit at the sight of her; the ache expanded when her smile widened and she waved at him, the recognition a balm over his still troubled soul. “Oh, Snufkin! Welcome back! It’s lunchtime!”

“Oh, lunch!” Moomin turned back to Snufkin, eyes lit up still. This spring, his excitement was clearly a growing thing, from waking up this morning to finding out Snufkin was home to something as simple as lunch. It was so like him that Snufkin found himself smiling brightly along with him anyway, stoic reputation long gone. “Do you want to join us, Snufkin?”

“Not now.” Snufkin said, lifting his shoulder to draw attention to his backpack. It made more noises to draw attention, though it wasn’t as loud as when Moomin was spinning him around all over the place a few moments ago. “Let me set up for tonight, and then I’ll be over, if I can.”

“Well, all right, Snufkin.” Moomin sounded a bit unsure, but he went up to his house with Little My in tow. Snufkin covered his mouth to hide his snicker at Moomin quite literally dragging her up the path; she was screeching loudly at him, twisting almost violently in an attempt to get away, her heels creating twin paths in the dirt up to the house.

Snufkin got to work in the silence that followed, setting up his tent easily and making the pit where he’d cooked his food over the course of the year. The motions were familiar and easy; even trying to draw it out as long as possible, Snufkin found himself finishing everything very quickly. He even looked around, trying to make sure he got everything.

He stood looking at Moomin House for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked into the forest again.

He didn’t go far, honestly. Just under the canopy of the trees, where the sun created the most shade, and still lit up the clearing of grass. He settled against the trunk of a tree, tilting his head back against the bark and just listening to the wind blow. It was calming and peaceful, and Snufkin savored it all the more for knowing that moments like this were going to be few and far between over the course of the year. It had been true of all the years he’d spent in Moomin Valley before, even last year, but he had a feeling it would be doubly true this year as well.

“Oh, so here’s where you’ve chosen to hide.” Little My said, and Snufkin very pointedly didn’t jump. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, pretending not to hear her just to see what she’d do, and was promptly answered when his foot was kicked; it was gentler than he’d thought she’d be, though, and he tilted his head to the side in order to peek up at her from under the brim of his hat.

“That wasn’t very nice of you, Little My.” He said easily, and she snorted.

“I could be meaner, if you want.” She shot back as she settled next to him. There was a moment of hesitation before she leaned against his side uncertainly; when he lifted his arm but didn’t move otherwise, Little My shifted so that she was curled against him, her hand reaching across his stomach and his arm settling comfortably on her shoulders. “Moomin missed you a lot over winter, you know.”

“You guys were asleep all winter.” Snufkin protested easily, and Little My squeezed him a little too sharply before relaxing again. “I missed everyone too, this winter. More so than usual, I think.”

“Because of the spell?” Little My asked, and Snufkin hummed in affirmative. “I made Moomin wake me up over winter. I told him that if he was gonna be awake, then he couldn’t be alone in that giant house.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Little My.” Snufkin said, laughing softly. “There’s no way he’d be able to perform the spell a second time, I don’t think.”

“Yea but just in case.” Little My said stubbornly. “It’s not like I slept well anyway. It wasn’t that big a deal to hang out with Moomin over winter, anyway.” Snufkin nodded solemnly, grateful that Little My couldn’t see the smile on his face; she was lying through her teeth, and they both knew it, but Snufkin didn’t want to start out his spring fighting with his big sister.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Snufkin shifted a bit. Little My drew back the second he did so, standing up and brushing her dress off. Sniffing disdainfully, she turned on her heel and made her way through the underbrush. Snufkin lifted his head, turning his head in the direction she went. His ears twitched under his hat, but all he could hear was Little My stomping away for a moment.

“Snufkin?”

“Moomintroll.” Snufkin settled against the tree again, smiling as the troll came into view. Moomin looked vaguely relieved, sitting down as close to Snufkin as he could without pressing them together from shoulder to hip. “Planning something special, then?”

“No.” Moomin said softly. “Just glad you’re back here, is all.”

“Me too.” Snufkin said. He took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for a long moment before letting it out again. He tilted his head to the side, looking with quiet amusement at Moomin and how the troll kept tossing him little glances out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, Moomin, want to hear a story?”

“A story?” Moomintroll visibly perked up, ears lifting in earnest. “What kind of story?”

“Well.” Snufkin sat up, clearing his throat slightly. “Right after I left the Valley, I headed down south, and…”

Snufkin told him about the adventures that he’d had while Moomin was supposed to be asleep over winter. Moomin was properly enthralled, gasping where appropriate and keeping all his attention on him. He barely noticed the movements of the sun, so focused on telling Moomin that he blocked everything else out.

They spent the entire afternoon like this, though Snufkin ran out of stories at some point and then Moomin took over from there. He didn’t have as many stories, spending most of his winter sleeping and some of it with Little My, but Snufkin gave him the same amount of attention Moomin had given him.

“Hey, Moomintroll.” Snufkin said softly, hours later, and Moomin hummed from where he was sprawled on the grass in front of him. “Moomintroll.”

“Yes, Snufkin?” Moomin rolled over, propping his face on his hands and giving Snufkin his full attention. He quite forgot what he was going to say in the face of such sudden attention, and for a moment they just stared at each other; Moomin’s eyes almost glowed in the fading sun light, luminous and captivating, and Snufkin found his mouth slightly open with nothing to say. “Snufkin?”

“I missed you, Moomintroll.” It came out quieter than he’d intended, his voice sounding like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, and he watched in distant fascination as Moomin’s cheeks turned bright red.

Moomin opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled sort of squeak; Snufkin had shifted over and reached out, putting one hand on his cheek and pressing his forehead against Moomin’s. They stayed liked that for a few seconds before Snufkin leaned forward the rest of the way. He pressed his lips against Moomin’s nose, so briefly and so lightly he almost didn’t feel it, and then nuzzled against him a little more firmly. Moomin’s blush deepened, his cheeks radiating warmth into Snufkin’s palm, but he nuzzled back without any sort of hesitation.

A Moomin kiss, one that was even better than the one Snufkin had gotten last year. The same action, yes, but there was a difference in everything important; Moomin knew him now, knew him and loved him and understood him, and Snufkin didn’t have to worry about mixed feelings or mistaken ones. It sent warmth down to his toes, his fingers tingling where they’d pressed against Moomin’s cheeks, even as they rounded out from Moomin’s smile.

“I was afraid,” Snufkin admitted softly, secure in the knowledge that Moomin wouldn’t judge him, “afraid to come back to the Valley. I knew, of course I knew, the chances of a repeat of last year was slim to none. My mind knew, but my heart…”

“Oh, Snufkin.” Moomin sighed, and then he shifted just a bit. Just enough so that he could sit on his knees, Snufkin’s grip on his face not letting him get far. He was taller than Snufkin, which meant the Mumrik’s hold on his face lifted the direction of his gaze, and whatever look was in Snufkin’s gaze made Moomin lift him from the ground and put him in his lap.

“I almost couldn’t bring myself to step into the Valley at all, not until you and Little My came out of the house.” Snufkin whispered. “Knowing you were waiting for me, expecting my arrival…” He sighed. “Hoping you remembered this year and knowing you did are two separate things, Moomintroll. Maybe they shouldn’t be, but they are.”

“I will never let you go through that again, Snufkin.” Moomin said, adjusting his hold so that he was hugging Snufkin tightly. “Not again, not if I can help it.” He held on tighter, whispering, “I’m so glad you came back this year.”

Tears pricked at Snufkin’s eyes, though he couldn’t quite tell from what, and he rubbed his face against Moomin’s shoulder with a watery laugh. He sat back far enough to give Moomin another Moomin kiss, and then another Mumrik one, before smiling up at him gently.

“Look at us,” he said, and he didn’t even have to force the cheer in his voice, “sitting here being silly. We have a whole year of exploration ahead of us, Moomin! A year of exploration, and a great batch of friends to do it with. And maybe this year, I’ll even give hibernating a go!” His mouth twisted oddly even as he said it, but Snufkin knew he meant it more than anything else.

He hadn’t quite told Moomin the truth, or at least not the whole truth. Snufkin hadn’t quite wondered if the rest of the Valley would remember him or not, though it would be very much preferable if they did. No, his fear was deeper rooted, and based more on whether _Moomintroll himself_ would remember him or not. The idea of returning to Moomin Valley and gaining that blank stare in return once again was almost too much for Snufkin to handle on his own, and he’d nearly talked himself out of returning to the Valley on at least six separate occasions in order to avoid even the possibility of it.

He’d not even thought of the offer of staying before he’d made it, and now it was too late to pull it back. Hibernation was sure to drive him crazy, all cold weather and stagnant days and too much silence, but he’d offered for Moomintroll. He’d stay for Moomin, and the thought was less surprising than he’d thought it would be.

“Or,” Moomin licked his lips, and took the plunge. “Instead, how about we travel? Just the two of us. You can show me all the places you’ve been to and seen, and we can discover new places to go. Together.”

“Together?” Snufkin repeated, and he felt his eyes grow wide in surprise and awe. Moomin flushed to be on the receiving end of such a look, but Snufkin couldn’t even bring himself to reign it in if he tried. His jaw worked for a moment before he found his voice again. “You’d want to go traveling? With me?”

“With who else?” Moomin asked cheerfully, and Snufkin felt his mouth twist into a smile. He ducked his head down, hiding it in his yellow scarf and under the wide brim of his hat, and Moomin’s startled spluttering reminded him of how close they were together. He didn’t move, though, and Moomin didn’t either. “Of course with you. We could have grand adventures, just you and I!”

“And if you get tired of traveling?” Snufkin asked, because he had to; he was content to roam about free forever, but that was his nature as a Mumrik, and he would never be able to deny it. Moomin was different, and though the thrill of an adventure spoke to him now, something different would call to him later. A call to put down roots, to start a family and have an actual home, to begin his hibernation again, and Snufkin would never be able to deny him that either.

“Then I’ll come back to the Valley,” Moomin said confidently, as if he knew the direction Snufkin’s thoughts took him in. “I’ll come back to the Valley, and make my own home, one that will belong to me and you. I’ll stay in the house, and you can camp in the yard around it, and we can come back to this. You coming home every spring, and leaving every winter to appease your wanderlust. We’ll have adventures with our friends, and I’ll dream of you out in the world having the time of your life, and you can wander until you miss me too much and want to come back.”

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, Moomin.” Snufkin said, clearing his throat to rid the lump from it. He’d never really thought of Moomin Valley as home, not once in their long friendship, but he was starting to see the appeal of it; Moomin had such an optimistic way of thinking that spread in all areas of his life, and Snufkin was so profoundly grateful to be a part of it that he couldn’t help himself at all.

He leaned forward again, giving Moomin another Moomin kiss that would never encapsulate the overwhelming love he was feeling at this particular moment. His eagerness toppled them over, and they laughed together at their clumsiness. Snufkin rolled off of Moomin, finally, laying on his back and staring up at the darkened leaves of the trees with Moomin’s hand in his own again. Moomin hummed gently, and Snufkin’s fingers twitched just slightly at the sound; he wanted to join him, on his harmonica, but he’d not anticipated needing it and he’d left it in his camp.

His camp, which wasn’t very far away; it was getting rather late, after all, and though Spring had officially started, it was still very cold at night. Moomin had his fur and Snufkin had his cloak, but that didn’t change the fact that a fire would keep them warmer better, and Snufkin hadn’t eaten since he’d woken up that morning. The nerves had gotten to his stomach, and so he’d barely even eaten some toast and berries.

“Moomintroll.” He said, and Moomin hummed at him expectantly. “Moomin, are you hungry?”

“A little, I guess.” Moomin tilted his head to look at him, and Snufkin felt his breath catch again; the moonlight gave Moomin an ethereal sort of glow, more than even the sunset had, and illuminated him even through the leaves of the trees. Moomin seemed to have a similar though, because he also stopped breathing and just stared, wide-eyed and pink faced, at Snufkin for a moment as well. “I-I mean…I mean, I could eat. If you want to.”

“Why don’t we go back to my camp?” Snufkin said, pushing himself to his feet and offering his hand to Moomin. “I can make us some dinner, and we can talk about our plans for the year together.”

“And for winter afterwards?” Moomin asked eagerly, taking Snufkin’s hand and allowing him to help him up. Snufkin smiled indulgently at him, knowing in his heart that he would do what he could to make sure Moomin kept that bright look in his eyes.

“Why don’t we plan for this year first,” Snufkin said gently as they began their walk back to his camp. “Enjoy the spring, and summer, and fall with our friends. With Moominmamma and Moominpappa and Snork, and the Hemulen, and Too-Ticky and Mym. We’ll worry about winter when winter comes up, ok, little dove?”

Moomin flushed darkly, just like Snufkin knew he was going to, and for a moment they walked in silence. Snufkin led the way back to his camp, his eyesight still much better than Moomin’s in the dark, even with the light of a full moon and a sky full of stars guiding their path. Snufkin led on, confident in his own steps, and relishing the utter trust Moomin had in his own as he followed just behind him.

They reached his campsite too soon, Snufkin felt, and it took them a moment longer to untangle their hands so that he could get to work. Moomin sat on the log nearby the circle, watching with such rapt attention that he distracted Snufkin from what he was doing; lighting the fire, preparing the food, _cooking_ it, until he had to lean over and nuzzle their noses again in yet another Moomin kiss that made him blush deeply. The sight of it made Snufkin smile, and though he knew Little My would call him dopey, he couldn’t make himself stop for anything. 

Whatever they did this year, and in the years coming towards them, they would do it together. He knew it.


End file.
